•'• 


DB    VANE: 


of 


PLEBEIANS  AND  PATRICIANS. 


BY 

Hoi*.  HEURY  W.  HILLIARD, 

EX-MEMBER    OF    UNITED    STUBS    HOUSE    OS   BEPBESENTATIVES    FROM    ALABAMA. 


"The  rank  is  but  the  guinea's  stamp, 
The  mai  '3  the  gow(*  for  a'  that.'' 

'  T  » •!  ^    \  t    •»  Ji     BURNS. 


TWO  VOLUMES  I2T  ONE.—  VOL.  I. 


BLELOCK  &  COMPANY,   19    BEEKMAN   STREET, 

1865. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1865,  by 
HENRY    W.    BILLIARD, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  for  the  Southern  District 
of  New- York. 


JOHN  A.  GRAY  A  GEKEW, 

Printer*, 
16  &  18  Jacob  Street,  New -York. 


1 

JVfrt/J 


WHEN  every  worldly  thought  is  utterly  forsaken, 

Comes  the  starry  midnight  felt  by  life's  gifted  few, 
Then  will  the  spirit  from  its  earthly  sleep  awaken 
To  a  being  more  intense,  more  spiritual  and  true. 

So  doth  the  soul  awaken, 
Like  that  youth  to  night's  fair  queen. 

The  Awakening  of  Endymion. 


M12040 


,^:,;   DE 

3,  ^torg  of 

PLEBEIANS  AND  PATRICIANS. 


CHAPTER     I. 

AND  ne'er  did  Grecian  chisel  trace 
A  nymph,  a  naiad,  or  a  grace 
Of  finer  form  or  lovelier  face  ! 

—LADY  OF  THE 

AN  October  sun  was  shedding  his  dying  splendors  upon 
earth  and  sky.  The  level  rays  bathed  the  valley  through 
which  the  river  poured  its  swift  current  in  warm  light, 
and  gilded  the  spires  of  the  little  capital  seated  on  the 
eastern  bank  of  the  stream  with  a  richer  lustre  than  gold 
could  give.  A  purple  haze  rested  upon  the  landscape,  and 
the  tints  which  the  sky  wore  were  of  that  soft  and  delicate 
kind,  peculiar  to  a  southern  climate  in  autumn. 

Two  young  gentlemen  were  walking  arm  in  arm  on  the 
river-bank,  observing  the  effect  of  the  light  as  the  waters 
rushed  over  the  adjacent  falls  and  flowed  at  their  feet,  the 
spray  touched  by  the  glowing  hues  of  departing  day.  A 
ferry-boat,  or  flat,  as  it  was  called  in  the  dialect  of  the  coun 
try,  had  just  reached  the  opposite  bank,  and  a  travelling- 


8;; \  '.:  DE  VANE. 

carriage  drove  into  it,  followed  by  a  gentleman  and  two 
ladies,  who  walked  after  it.  The  current  being  rapid  and 
deep,  the  boat  was  drawn  from  the  one  bank  to  the  other 
by  means  of  a  rope  stretched  across  the  stream  and  fast 
ened  at  both  sides  securely ;  but  it  required  some  time  to 
make  the  passage,  and  the  two  gentlemen  reached  the 
steep  road  which  led  up  from  the  river  in  their  walk,  and 
stood  there  observing  the  objects  about  them  as  they 
would  have  studied  a  picture. 

One  of  them  appeared  to  be  about  twenty-four  years  of 
age,  and  there  was  an  air  almost  of  sadness  about  him  as 
he  surveyed  the  wide-spread  landscape.  The  other  was 
younger,  certainly  not  more  than  twenty,  and  his  manner 
was  animated. 

"  Waring,"  said  he,  "  this  picture  almost  equals  our 
Virginia  scenery ;  but  you  want  the  mountains,  and  the 
Germans  say  you  must  have  them,  or  a  landscape  is 
nothing." 

"  I  do  not  suffer  the  Germans  to  decide  questions  of  taste 
for  me,"  replied  the  other,  "  nor  do  I  feel  any  more  respect 
for  their  opinions  in  such  matters  than  I  do  for  their  theo 
logical  views.  For  tranquil  beauty,  nothing  can  surpass 
this  scene." 

"  Ah  !  you  have  not  forgiven  me  for  my  transcendental 
ism,  as  you  style  it,  because  I  express  some  admiration  for 
German  speculations.  Yet  I  am  sure  that  they  hold  al 
most  supreme  dominion  in  that  realm,  that  is,  if  you  ac 
cept  Jean  Paul  Richter  for  authority,  for  he  says  :  *  The 
land  belongs  to  the  French,  the  sea  to  the  English,  and 
the  air  to  the  Germans.' " 

"  Certainly,"  said  Waring,  "  and  Jean  Paul  Richter  con 
firms  my  opinion ;  for  he  means,  that  the  German  mind 
has  nothing  practical  about  it,  and  is  simply  speculative, 
and  I  think  generally  misty." 

"  Still,  Waring,"  answered  the  other,  "  you  must  admit 


DE  VANE.  9 

that  a  sunset  in  the  mountains  does  excel  this ;  here  you 
have  quiet  beauty,  I  agree,  but  standing  in  the  midst  of 
our  Virginia  mountains,  you  realize  what  Beattie  means, 
in  those  fine  lines  of  his  Minstrel : 

1  The  pomp  of  groves,  and  garniture  of  fields  ; 
All  that  the  genial  ray  of  morning  gilds, 
And  all  that  echoes  to  the  song  of  even, 
All  that  the  mountain's  sheltering  bosom  shields, 
And  all  the  dread  magnificence  of  heaven." 

At  this  moment,  the  boat  having  reached  the  bank,  the 
carriage  drove  up  the  steep  ascent,  and  the  party  in  the 
boat  followed  it  on  foot,  coming  up  to  that  part  of  the 
road  where  the  gentlemen  were  standing ;  when  the  elder 
of  the  two  suddenly  started,  and  then  advancing  toward 
the  travellers,  exclaimed :  "  Why,  Mr.  Springfield !  have 
you  returned  ?  I  am  delighted  to  see  you." 

"  Ah !  Mr.  Waring,  you  are  here  to  welcome  us  !"  the 
gentleman  to  whom  he  addressed  himself  replied,  grasp 
ing  his  hand :  "  We  begin  to  feel  now  that  we  are  already 
at  home." 

Waring  then  spoke  with  the  ladies,  who  received  him 
warmly,  and  expressed  their  gratification  at  reaching 
home  once  more. 

So  sudden  had  been  the  recognition  of  the  travellers 
by  Waring,  that  he  had  no  time  for  explanations  to  his 
friend,  who  remained  standing  on  the  roadside,  apparent 
ly  interested  and  pleased  with  the  scene ;  but  noV  War 
ing,  turning  to  him,  said :  "  Mr.  De  Vane,  let  me  present 
you  to  Mr.  Springfield."  And  the  young  gentleman,  ad 
vancing,  was  also  introduced  to  the  ladies.  One  of  these 
was  Mrs.  Springfield,  and  the  other  her  niece,  Miss  Words 
worth. 

There  was  in  the  manner  of  De  Vane  a  blended  self- 
possession  and  embarrassment,  which  did  not  escape  the 
1* 


10  DE  VANE. 

observation  of  Mrs.  Springfield,  and  which  interested  her ; 
she  saw  that  his  bearing  had  in  it  something  of  stateliness, 
and  yet  perfect  good  breeding.  As  the  party  entered  their 
carriage  and  drove  off,  the  two  young  gentlemen  turned 
their  steps  in  the  same  direction,  and  resumed  their  con 
versation. 

"  Waring ! "  exclaimed  De  Vane,  "  are  those  people 
friends  of  yours  ?  Mehercule  !  I  never  saw  so  lovely  a  per 
son  as  that  young  girl.  I  give  it  up  !  With  that  addition 
to  your  picture,  I  never  saw  any  thing,  even  in  Virginia,  to 
rival  it." 

"  What !"  said  Waring,  "  does  she  compensate  for  the 
absence  of  mountains  ?  " 

"  Mountains  !  she  would  shed  a  glory  over  Siberia.  She 
is  absolutely  radiant.  Who  are  they  ?  " 

"The  gentleman,"  replied  Waring  somewhat  gravely, 
"  is  a  man  of  fortune,  cultivation,  and  taste ;  yet  a  Meth 
odist,  and  what  it  may  perhaps  surprise  you  still  more  to 
learn,  is  a  lay  preacher.  Learned,  accomplished,  and 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  world,  he  is  a  Christian, 
and  while  he  is  unwilling  to  assume  the  responsibilities  of 
a  clergyman  proper,  yet  he  preaches  habitually,  and  with 
an  earnestness  and  power  rarely  equalled." 

De  Vane's  face  expressed  astonishment  and  yet  interest, 
but  he  was  too  well  bred  to  say  all  that  he  felt.  To  see 
such  a  man,  and  to  hear  him  thus  described,  was  so  unlike 
any  thing  coming  under  his  own  observation,  that  he  was 
surprised,  and  he  could  not  repress  some  remark  of  that 
kind ;  but  knowing  his  friend  Waring  to  be  a  Christian,  he 
restrained  himself. 

"  And  the  ladies,"  said  De  Vane,  "  what  of  them  ?" 

"  The  ladies,"  replied  Waring,  "  are  Mrs.  Springfield, 
the  wife  of  the  gentleman  to  whom  I  have  just  introduced 
you,  and  a  woman  of  the  highest  order.  The  younger  lady 
is  Miss  Esther  Wordsworth,  a  niece  of  Mrs.  Springfield." 


DE  VANE.  11 

"  A  Methodist,  too  ?"  exclaimed  De  Yane. 

"  A  Methodist,  too,"  replied  his  friend. 

"  Mehercule  /"  said  De  Vane,  using  his  habitual  classical 
exclamation  when  he  was  excited,  and  added  :  "  I  must 
really  know  more  of  them  ;  for  that  young  girl  might  be 
an  angel  just  arrived,  to  show  us  what  the  inhabitants  of 
heaven  look  like." 

They  walked  on  for  a  few  moments  in  silence,  and  then 
having  reached  the  College  grounds,  each  one  sought  his 
own  room. 

John  Waring  was  a  native  of  Georgia.  He  had  grown 
up  in  that  State ;  and  after  struggling  with  adverse  for 
tunes  for  years,  had  acquired  sufficient  means  to  enable 
him  to  take  a  collegiate  course.  His  parents  died  when 
he  was  quite  young,  leaving  a  very  slender  property  for 
their  two  children,  the  son,  of  whom  we  have  already  spo 
ken,  and  a  sister  still  younger  than  himself. 

John,  then  about  sixteen  years  of  age,  at  once  decided  to 
give  his  sister  the  whole  advantages  of  the  estate ;  and  be 
gan  even  at  that  early  age  to  teach  a  school.  He  perse 
vered  in  this,  until  he  acquired  what  he  felt  would  enable 
him  to  complete  his  own  education  ;  and  in  his  twenty- 
second  year  had  entered  the  celebrated  College  in  which 
he  was  now  a  student.  He  was  in  his  senior  year,  and 
expected  to  graduate  in  December,  at  the  approaching 
Commencement.  He  was  deeply  pious  ;  and  had  been 
trained  in  that  religious  denomination  which  had  acquir 
ed  such  influence  in  Georgia,  as  to  number  among  its 
members  the  poor  and  the  rich,  the  humble  and  the  aris 
tocratic.  He  was  a  Methodist. 

George  De  Yane  was  a  young  Yirginian.  He  had  been 
for  more  than  two  years  a  student  in  the  College,  and  in 
the  same  class  with  Waring.  He,  too,  looked  to  a  speedy 
graduation.  Younger  by  several  years  than  his  friend, 
yet  he  had  become  intimate  with  him,  shared  his  love  of 


12  DE  VANE. 

nature,  his  passion  for  books,  and  his  disposition  to  seek 
recreation  out  of  the  common  ways  of  life.  Seeing  his 
matured  and  well-knit  form,  no  one  would  have  supposed 
that  his  health  was  not  perfect ;  yet  his  friends  fearing  that 
a  disease  not  unknown  to  his  family,  might  develop  itself 
in  him,  advised  him  to  pass  some  years  in  a  milder  climate 
than  that  of  the  mountain  district  of  his  native  State.  He 
was  the  only  son  of  General  Charles  De  Vane,  a  gentle 
man  of  large  fortune,  who  had  seen  actual  service  in  the 
army,  and  had  acquired  distinction  in  the  late  war  with 
England.  His  property  was  so  large,  as  to  make  it  im 
portant  for  him  to  reside  on  his  estate ;  and  as  his  tastes 
were  aristocratic,  he  saw  little  of  general  society.  He  be 
longed  to  that  class  of  gentlemen,  now  almost  extinct  in 
Virginia,  who  were  as  exclusive  in  their  social  intercourse 
as  the  English  nobility.  He  never  travelled  but  with  a 
coach  and  four  horses ;  kept  his  servants  in  livery ;  and 
all  the  appointments  of  his  large  establishment  were  as 
formal  and  elaborate  as  if  the  world  had  undergone  no 
change;  just  as  if  the  law  of  primogeniture  had  not  been 
destroyed,  and  suffrage  made  universal.  His  wife  had 
died  when  George  was  but  five  years  of  age,  and  a  widow 
ed  sister  came  to  reside  with  him,  who  took  charge  of  his 
household. 

Mrs.  Hester  De  Vane,  who  had  married  her  cousin 
of  the  same  name,  to  whom  she  was  ardently  attached, 
and  whose  death  she  still  mourned,  shared  her  brother's 
aristocratic  tastes,  but  she  was  in  almost  every  other 
respect  widely  different  from  him.  Several  years  young 
er  than  her  brother,  she  still  retained  traces  of  personal 
beauty;  and  having  been  plunged  into  deep  grief  by 
the  loss  of  her  husband,  who  died  just  four  years  after 
their  marriage,  she  had  sought  that  consolation  which  a 
stricken  heart  finds  nowhere  but  at  the  feet  of  Him  who 
invites  the  weary  and  heavy-laden  to  come  to  him — and 


DE  VANE.  13 

she  had  found  rest.  Cultivated,  refined,  elegant,  she  was 
a  Christian ;  preferring  her  own  church,  the  Protestant 
Episcopal,  she  yet  often  attended  religious  services  else 
where.  Her  brother  never  accompanied  her  when  she  at 
tended  "  chapels,"  as  he  styled  them.  She  was  childless  ; 
and  she  bestowed  on  George  De  Vane  all  the  exuberance 
of  her  fine  nature.  She  instructed  him  in  those  things 
w^hich  only  a  woman  can  teach :  taught  him  to  love  mu 
sic,  for  which  she  had  a  passion ;  to  draw,  encouraging 
him  to  sketch  from  nature ;  and  she  opened  to  his  young 
mind  the  hidden  treasures  of  that  noble  library  which  had 
been  accumulating  in  his  ancestral  home  for  more  than 
half  a  century.  She  saw  the  grand  nature  of  the  boy : 
grand,  yet  with  faults  that  might  shed  disastrous  eclipse 
over  all  the  heaven  of  his  future.  Generous,  brave,  impet 
uous,  full  of  truth  and  ardor,  sympathizing  with  every 
thing  great  and  noble,  yet  with  strong  aristocratic  tastes, 
and  not  resolute  where  his  tastes  were  offended ;  full,  too, 
of  sensibility,  and  impatient  of  restraint ;  a  genius  that 
almost  disdained  labor — such  were  the  outlines  that  char 
acterized  the  young  nature  which  stood  upon  the  thresh 
old  of  manhood.  ISTo  one  of  his  age  was  better  informed ; 
his  teachers  had  fitted  him  for  college  at  an  early  age,  de 
lighting  in  his  proficiency;  and  his  aunt  had  instructed 
him  in  elegant  learning  to  such  a  degree,  that  few  of  any 
age  could  surpass  him  in  acquaintance  with  English  lite 
rature. 

In  the  society  of  gentlemen — such  gentlemen  as  were 
entertained  at  General  De  Vane's  table  —  George  was 
full  of  sympathy,  entered  freely  into  conversation  with 
them,  and  unostentatiously,  indeed  unconsciously  exhibit 
ed  those  rare  acquirements  which  attracted  to  him  the  at 
tentions  of  persons  much  older  than  himself.  When,  too, 
he  accompanied  his  father  in  his  visits  to  the  capital  of  his 
State,  he  found  much  to  stimulate  his  ambition.  Often  he 


14  DE  VANE. 

rambled  in  the  great  forests  which  stretched  out  almost 
inimitably  about  his  home,  taking  his  gun  with  him ;  lift 
ing  his  voice  in  reciting  the  lines  of  favorite  poets  ;  and 
sometimes,  like  the  great  Athenian,  addressing  an  imagin 
ary  audience,  in  his  loudest  tones,  until  the  wild  woods 
echoed  with  his  vehement  harangues.  Oh  !  what  a  train 
ing  for  genius,  ambition,  and  sensibility  such  a  youth 
gives — a  youth  alternating  between  society  and  solitude  ! 
How  the  intellect  grows  and  the  soul  expands,  like  nature 
in  that  zone  lying  between  the  extremes  of  northern  ice 
and  tropical  fervors,  when  Spring  breathes  upon  it  ! 


CHAPTER    II. 

••LADY  that  in  the  prime  of  earliest  youth 
Wisely  hast  shunn'd  the  broad  way  and  the  green, 
And  with  those  few  art  eminently  seen, 
That  labor  up  the  hill  of  heavenly  truth." 

MILTON  :  Ode  to  a  Virtuous  Young  Lady, 

DE  VANE,  closely  engaged  in  his  studies,  did  not  quit 
the  college  grounds  again  before  the  following  Saturday. 
His  closing  examination  was  about  to  take  place,  and  he 
was  roused  to  unusual  exertion.  The  youngest  member 
of  a  large  and  strong  class,  he  wished  to  distinguish  him 
self;  and  as  he  had  not  bestowed  that  attention  upon  his 
Mathematical  course,  which  the  importance  attached  to  it 
in  the  College  required,  he  now  redoubled  his  diligence. 

In  Metaphysics  and  Belles-Lettres,  he  was  without  a 
rival ;  and  few  equalled  him  as  a  classical  scholar.  As  an 
orator,  he  was  transcendent,  and  his  Society  had  already 
chosen  him  to  deliver  the  Valedictory  Oration  at  the  ap 
proaching  commencement.  But  in  Mathematics,  his  tastes 
had  not  been  met,  and  he  was  respectable,  without  being 
distinguished  in  that  department.  In  the  Faculty  he  had 
friends ;  but  the  Professor  of  Belles-Lettres  and  Oratory 
was  especially  attached  to  him,  and  that  gentleman  had 
advised  De  Vane  to  devote  the  remainder  of  his  time 
mainly  to  the  neglected  branch  of  study.  Professor  Niles 
was  a  man  of  large  acquirements  ;  had  attained  eminence 
at  the  bar,  and  then,  while  yet  young,  had  given  up  his 
profession,  and  had -passed  some  years  in  European  travel. 
Before  his  return,  he  was  elected  by  the  Trustees  to  the 

(15) 


16  DE  VANE. 

Chair  which  he  now  filled,  and  from  the  first  recitation 
made  by  De  Vane,  in  his  department,  he  had  formed  a 
high  estimate  of  the  young  student,  which  soon  ripened 
into  a  friendship.  He  had  married  in  France  a  young, 
beautiful,  and  accomplished  woman,  and  De  Vane  often 
passed  his  evenings  at  their  house,  where  his  tastes  were 
cultivated — music,  books,  conversation,  every  thing  con 
tributing  to  the  encouragement  of  his  favorite  pursuits. 

Walking  in  the  College  campus,  De  Vane  saw  his  friend 
Waring  descending  the  steps  of  the  chapel,  and  he  imme 
diately  joined  him. 

"  Waring,  what  are  you  to  do  with  yourself  this  fine 
day  ?  Are  you  disposed  for  a  walk  ?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  Waring  ;  "  where  shall  we  go  ?" 

"  Into  the  town ;  we  may  perhaps  meet  your  fair 
friends  once  more.  Have  you  seen  them  since  our  meet 
ing  on  the  river-bank  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Waring  ;  "  I  called  the  next  evening,  and 
Mrs.  Springfield  asked  after  you  with  interest." 

"Indeed  !"  said  De  Vane.  "I  am  grateful.  I  hardly 
supposed  she  would  think  of  me  again.  I  owe  it  to  you, 
Waring." 

"  Not  at  all ;  she  was  really  pleased  with  you,  and  made 
me  give  a  full  account  of  you." 

"  I  trust  you  were  generous,  Waring,  and  did  not  make 
her  believe  that  I  am  a  free-thinker." 

"  No  ;  I  told  her  that  you  wanted  discipline  ;  that  you 
were  somewhat  spoiled,  and  inclined  to  be  transcend 
ental." 

"  Did  the  young  lady  ask  after  me,  Waring  ?" 

"  No  ;  she  sat  by,vand  heard  my  description  of  you." 

"  And  did  not  ask  a  single  question  about  me  ?" 

"  Not  one,"  said  Waring. 

"  That  is  not  flattering  ;  she  must  be  as  cold  as  a  Greek 


DE  VANE.  17 

statue — she  is  certainly  as  beautiful  as  one.  If  the  Venus 
de  Medici  can  excel  her,  I  shall  pronounce  it  faultless." 

"  She  would  consider  it  no  compliment  to  be  compared 
with  Venus,  even  in  marble,"  said  Waring ;  "  if  you  must 
go  to  the  fine  arts,  why  not  say  Raphael's  Virgin  ?" 

"  Because,"  replied  the  other,  "  she  does  not  in  the  least 
resemble  her.  Nor  does  she  remind  me  of  her,  except  by 
her  near  relation  to  something  divine.  I  am  willing  to  say 
Iphigenia,  or,  if  you  prefer,  Ruth,  or  Eve ;  but  she  is  Eve 
yet  in  Eden." 

"  As  you  will,"  replied  his  friend. 

By  this  time  the  young  gentlemen  had  entered  the  prin 
cipal  street  of  the  town  ;  and,  walking  leisurely,  they 
enjoyed  the  animated  scene.  The  morning  was  fine,  hand 
some  equipages  dashed  past,  and  the  sidewalks  were 
thronged  with  pedestrians.  Quite  a  number  of  young 
people  were  walking  ;  the  students  from  the  College,  and 
the  young  ladies  from  the  academy  and  the  schools,  were 
enjoying  the  bright,  bracing  air. 

"  Waring,"  said  De  Vane,  "  let  us  look  into  this  book 
store  ;  I  love  book-stores — they  are  the  most  agreeable  of 
all  places  on  earth  to  me." 

They  entered  the  book-store.  It  was  an  unusually  fine 
one ;  its  shelves  were  enriched  with  the  handsomest  edi 
tions  of  the  best  works  in  the  language ;  rare  old  volumes 
too  might  be  found  here ;  and  De  Vane  had  passed  many 
an  hour  in  looking  through  them.  He  was  soon  absorbed 
by  a  splendid  copy  of  the  Paradise  Lost,  bound  in  two 
large  volumes.  Raising  his  head  at  length,  while  a  smile 
broke  over  his  fine  face,  like  a  sun-beam,  "  Waring,"  said 
he,  "  come  here  ;  I'  will  give  you  the  portrait  of  your 
young  friend,  and  even  you  will  not  object  to  a  single  fea 
ture  in  it."  Waring  walked  up  to  his  side,  and  De  Vane 
read  in  his  finest  style — a  style  unsurpassed  by  any  one  of 
any  age — the  lines  in  which  Milton  describes  Eve  : 


18"  DE  VANE. 

"  For  softness  she,  and  sweet  attractive  grace ; 

She,  as  a  veil,  down  to  the  slender  waist, 
Her  unadorned  golden  tresses  wore 
Dishevel' d,  but  in  wanton  ringlets  waved, 
As  the  vine  curls  her  tendrils." 

At  this  moment  Miss  Wordsworth  entered  the  store; 
and  Waring  and  De  Vane  both  colored.  She  led  by 
the  hand  a  little  girl,  plainly  dressed,  but  with  perfect 
neatness,  and  whose  young  face  glowed  with  animation. 
Esther  Wordsworth  was,  as  De  Yane  had  said,  radiant ; 
her  complexion  was  perfect,  and  her  rich,  heavy,  golden 
curls  fell  about  her  face  "  waving,"  in  the  language  of 
Milton ;  her  large  dark-blue  eyes  had  in  them  a  fathom 
less  depth,  which  reminded  one  of  a  lake ;  the  face  was 
oval ;  and  the  mouth  and  chin,  perfect  in  themselves,  gave 
an  indescribable  charm  to  her  expression.  The  profile  was 
classical ;  the  outlines,  as  clear  as  if  the  chisel  of  an  art 
ist  had  traced  them,  were  what  we  call  Grecian  ;  and 
when  she  smiled,  her  teeth  revealed  their  perfect  beauty. 
Slightly  above  the  medium  height,  her  form  possessed  that 
roundness  which  suggests  health  and  activity,  with  grace ; 
and  her  walk  was  elastic  and  rapid ;  her  dress,  made  of 
some  dark,  rich  material,  fitted  her  shape  exquisitely.  As 
she  entered,  both  the  gentlemen  advanced  to  meet  her,  and 
she  frankly  extended  her  hand  to  Waring ;  her  manner 
showing  that  she  recognized  him  as  an  established  friend. 
She  bowed  to  De  Vane,  who  stood  by  his  side. 

"  We  are  fortunate,  this  morning,  Miss  Wordsworth," 
said  Waring ;  "  we  came  to  look  at  books,  and  did  not 
know  that  we  should  have  the  pleasure  of  meeting  you." 

She  rewarded  him  with  a  gracious  smile. 

"  We  often  find  in  books,"  said  De  Vane,  "  unexpected 
pleasures  ;  and  in  book-stores  we  may  always  look  for 
something  agreeable." 


DE  VANE.  19 

Esther  turned  her  eyes  full  upon  the  speaker ;  there  was 
in  his  manner  something  that  impressed  her — a  grace  and 
dignity  rarely  seen  ;  and  his  language  might  be  con 
strued  into  a  compliment  to  herself,  or  it  might  mean 
nothing  more  than  he  had  literally  said.  She  replied : 

"  I  am  often  here ;  there  are  few  places  more  agreeable 
to  me  ;  and  if  I  could  consult  my  tastes,  I  should  pass 
many  hours  here.  But  I  came  this  morning  to  select  a 
book  for  my  little  friend  here,  who  is  to  be  rewarded  for 
her  diligence  and  good  conduct." 

The  child  looked  up  into  the  face  of  De  Vane  earnestly, 
for  a  moment,  and  then  smiled.  He  gave  her  his  hand. 

"  And  how  has  your  little  friend  earned  her  reward  ?" 
he  asked. 

"  By  learning  well,  and  by  doing  well,"  said  Esther ;  "  I 
always  make  my  gifts  depend  on  good  conduct  as  well  as 
proficiency." 

De  Vane  was  surprised  ;  it  seemed  that  Miss  Words 
worth  was  a  teacher,  and  yet  it  could  hardly  be  so.  Her 
position  in  society,  her  circumstances,  made  it  improbable. 
Esther  read  his  embarrassment  perfectly,  but  said  noth 
ing. 

"  To  whom  do  you  go  to  school  ?"  said  he  to  the  child, 
still  holding  her  hand. 

"  Miss  Esther  teaches  me,  sir,"  said  she,  half  timidly 
and  half  proudly. 

"  I  see,  Mr.  De  Vane,  that  you  do  not  comprehend  it," 
said  Esther,  smiling.  "  This  little  girl,  Mary  Sinclair,  is 
one  of  my  pupils.  I  have  ten." 

De  Vane  could  not  conceal  his  astonishment ;  but  his 
good  breeding  prevented  his  expressing  it  in  words.  There 
was  in  Esther's  manner  something  so  lady-like,  so  aristo 
cratic,  as  De  Vane  thought,  that  he  could  not  comprehend 
how  she  could  be  a  schoolmistress.  She  did  not  explain 
it,  but  remarked  that  having  examined  her  pupils  since  her 


20  DE  VANE. 

return  from  her  summer  excursion  to  Virginia,  she  had 
found  the  little  girl,  whom  she  had  brought  to  the  book 
store,  entitled  to  a  reward,  and  she  had  come  to  purchase 
it.  De  Vane  bowed  low,  and  Waring,  observing  the 
scene,  smiled. 

Esther,  turning  to  the  counter  which  stood  in  the  mid 
dle  of  the  store,  began  to  look  over  the  new  bright  books, 
which  were  temptingly  ranged  upon  it,  and  presently 
selected  one. 

"  Did  you  pass  the  summer  in  Virginia,  Miss  "Words 
worth  ?"  De  Vane  asked. 

"  The  greater  part  of  it,"  she  replied ;  "  we  passed  a  few 
weeks  in  Philadelphia,  and  at  Cape  May.  But  Mr.  Spring 
field  yielded  to  the  wishes  of  my  aunt  and  myself,  and  we 
entered  the  heart  of  the  Virginia  mountains,  and  lingered 
there  until  the  frosts  admonished  us  that  we  must  leave." 

"  And  do  you  admire  mountain  scenery  ?  And  prefer  it 
to  cities  and  watering-places  ?" 

"  I  love  the  mountains,"  she  replied.  "  They  are  glo 
rious." 

De  Vane  was  delighted,  and  he  turned  his  face,  lighted 
up  with  a  smile  of  triumph,  upon  Waring. 

"  But,"  said  that  gentleman,  "  it  is  only  in  their  summer 
garb  that  you  have  seen  them ;  you  would  not  reside  in 
such  a  region  ?" 

"  I  have  never  seen  them  in  winter,  it  is  true,  but  I  can 
imagine  that  they  only  exchange  their  summer  verdure  for 
higher  glories  in  winter." 

"  Still,"  insisted  Waring,  "  you  love  this  dear  Southern 
clime." 

"  Oh  !  yes,  dearly.  I  love  my  home,  but  I  should  be 
very  sorry  to  think  that  I  should  never  see  the  mountains 
again." 

"  Miss  Wordsworth,"  said  De  Vane  with  emotion,  "  you 
do  not  know  how  much  I  owe  you.  You  speak  of  my 


DE  VANE.  21 

home  when  you  speak  of  the  Virginia  mountains  ;  and  my 
heart  answers  to  your  language  in  sympathy  which  I  will 
not  attempt  to  express  in  words." 

Other  persons  entered  the  store,  and  Miss  Wordsworth 
and  the  two  gentlemen  turned  into  one  of  the  alcoves,  and 
began  to  examine  the  books  which  looked  to  them  as 
friends. 

Esther  had  taken  down  Madame  De  Stael's  L'Alle- 
magne,  and  was  turning  its  pages.  De  Vane  asked  if 
she  had  bestowed  much  attention  on  German  literature. 
She  said :  "  I  have  not  explored  it,  but  have  looked  into 
it,  as  a  traveller  passes  through  a  strange  country." 

"  And  did  you  admire  it  ?  " 

"  The  question  is  not  easily  answered,"  replied  Esther, 
"  there  is  much  that  is  beautiful — indeed,  fascinating ;  but 
I  suppose  I  must  admit  that  I  share  that  prejudice  which 
Madame  De  Stae'l  says  exists  in  England,  against  the 
philosophy  and  the  literature  of  Germany." 

"But  you  observe  how  she  accounts  for  that,  do  you 
not  ?"  said  De  Vane,  taking  the  book  from  Esther's  hands 
and  reading  the  paragraph :  "  Le  gout  de  la  societe,  le  plai- 
sir  et  Finteret  de  la  conversation  ne  sont  point  ce  qui  forme 
les  esprits  en  Angleterre  /  les  affaires,  le  parlement,  V admi 
nistration,  remplissent  toutes  les  tetes,  et  les  interets  politiques 
sont  le  principal  objet  des  meditations.  Les  Anglais  veulent 
d  tout  des  resultants  immediatement  applicables,  et  de  Id 
naissent  leurs  preventions  contre  une  philosophic  qui  a  pour 
objet  le  beauplutot  que  Vutile" 

"Yes,"  said  Esther,  "Madame  De  Stae'l  is  ingenious; 
but  she  was  too  thoroughly  continental  in  her  tastes  to 
comprehend  the  English.  I  think  she  gives  us  the  true 
reason  for  what  she  calls  the  prejudice  of  the  English 
people  against  the  philosophy  of  Germany,  when  she 
states,  as  she  does  in  another  part  of  the  volume  in  your 
hands,  that  the  chief  subject  of  intellectual  pursuit  in  Ger- 


22  DE  VANE. 

many  is  Metaphysics,  and  that  their   system  aspires  to 
solve  the  mystery  of  creation,  and  to  explore  the  infinite." 

"And  do  you  object  to  that,  Miss  Wordsworth?  Do 
you  not  agree  with  her  that  the  enigma  of  the  universe 
has  always  engaged  the  attention  of  the  noblest  minds, 
and  that  although  they  continue  to  revolve  about  the 
abyss  of  fathomless  thoughts,  from  age  to  age,  we  must 
still  strive  to  scale  the  heavens  ?  " 

He  spoke  with  great  animation.  Esther  hesitated  a 
moment  before  she  replied ;  a  glow  flushed  her  face,  and  hei 
eyes  almost  swam  with  tears.  She  sympathized  with  the 
enthusiasm  of  the  young,  ardent  nature,  seeking  to  find 
the  true  and  the  infinite,  and  yet  without  a  guide. 

"  Mr.  De  Vane,"  she  said,  gently  looking  into  the  glow 
ing  face  of  the  young  student ;  "  we  shall  strive  forever  in 
vain  to  scale  the  heavens,  unless  we  follow  the  steps  of 
Him  who  has  gone  before,  to  prepare  a  place  for  us." 

De  Vane  started.  There  was  so  much  of  gentleness, 
and  yet  so  much  of  courage  in  this  young  girl,  who  made 
the  appeal  to  him,  in  behalf  of  her  religion,  with  such  a 
total  absence  of  affectation,  that  he  was  deeply  moved. 
He  bowed,  and  then  added :  "  I  think  you  will  agree,  Miss 
Wordsworth,  that  Schiller  sought  the  divine  way.  Do 
you  remember  what  Madame  De  Stael  says  of  him  in  his 
last  moments  ?  Allow  me  to  render  it  in  English.  *  Stricken 
while  yet  young,  with  a  hopeless  malady,  his  children,  his 
wife — who  merited  by  a  thousand  touching  qualities  the 
attachment  which  he  had  for  her — had  soothed  his  last 
moments.  Madame  De  Wollzogen,  a  friend  capable  of 
comprehending  him,  asked  him,  some  hours  before  his 
death,  how  he  did:  "Still  more  tranquil,"  he  answered. 
Indeed  had  he  not  reason  to  confide  in  the  Divinity,  whose 
reign  upon  earth  he  had  favored  ?  Was  he  not  approach 
ing  the  sojourn  of  the  just  ?  Was  he  not  at  this  moment 
near  his  peers,  and  about  to  rejoin  the  friends  who  awaited 
him  ? '  " 


DE  VANE.  23 

"  Beautiful ! "  exclaimed  Esther.  "  Beautiful !  Madame 
De  Stael  could  appreciate  the  good  when  it  was  associated 
with  genius  and  refinement.  I  thank  her  for  vindicating 
the  superiority  of  sacred  over  classical  poetry.  Will  you 
lend  me  the  book  for  a  moment  ?  "  De  Yane  placed  it  in 
her  hands,  and  she  turned  to  the  notice  of  poetry,  and  read  : 
"  Groves,  flowers,  and  brooks  sufficed  for  the  poets  of  pa 
ganism.  The  solitude  of  forests ;  the  ocean  without  limits  ; 
the  starry  heavens,  could  hardly  express  the  eternal  and 
the  infinite,  with  which  the  soul  of  Christians  is  filled." 

De  Vane  looked  into  her  face,  as  if  it  had  been  the  face 
of  an  angel.  She  replaced  the  book ;  and  taking  the  little 
girl  by  the  hand,  bowed  to  the  gentlemen,  and  left  the 
store.  Waring  had  stood  leaning  against  one  of  the  book 
shelves,  and  had  silently  observed  and  heard  all  that 
passed  between  De  Vane  and  Esther.  His  face  wore  an 
expression  of  sadness,  and  yet  the  flush  of  something  like 
triumph  overspread  it. 

"  Waring,"  said  De  Vane,  "  who  is  Miss  Wordsworth  ?  " 

Waring  smiled.  "  She  is,  as  I  have  already  informed 
you,  a  niece  of  Mrs.  Springfield." 

"  Oh  !  yes ;  but  give  me  her  history." 

"  Her  history,"  said  Waring,  "  is  a  brief  one,  for  she  is 
very  young — scarcely  seventeen.  But  let  us  walk,  and  I 
will  make  you  acquainted  with  it,  so  far  at  least  as  I  know 
it  myself." 

They  turned  their  steps  toward  a  fine  garden  in  the 
eastern  part  of  the  town,  which  was  open  to  visitors. 

"  Miss  Wordsworth,"  said  Waring,  "  is  an  orphan,  and 
resides  with  her  aunt.  Her  father  was  a  young  Methodist 
minister,  an  only  brother  of  Mrs.  Springfield,  and  younger 
than  herself.  Thoroughly  educated,  with  cultivated  tastes 
and  ample  means,  he  felt  it  to  be  his  duty  to  preach  the 
Gospel ;  and  he  entered  the  self-denying,  heroic  company 
of  men,  who  are  known  to  the  world  as  Methodist  preach- 


24  DE  VANE. 

ers.  He  was  a  native  of  Georgia,  and  he  married  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Athens,  in  that  State,  a  young,  accom 
plished,  and  beautiful  woman,  who  loved  the  cause  of 
Christ  as  well  as  he  did. 

"  In  the  fifth  year  of  his  ministry  he  was  sent  to  Savan 
nah,  and  in  September  an  epidemic  appeared,  which  swept 
hundreds  into  eternity.  Mr.  Wordsworth  sent  his  wife 
and  their  child  Esther — then  four  years  old — into  the  coun 
try,  and  devoted  himself  to  the  care  of  the  sick  and  the 
dying.  The  eye  that  saw  him  bare  witness  to  him,  and 
the  ear  that  heard  him  drank  in  the  tones  of  his  cheerful 
voice,  and  dying  lips  whispered  thanks  and  blessings. 
Worn  down  with  fatigue,  he  contracted  the  disease,  and 
sank  under  it.  Mrs.  Wordsworth,  hearing  of  his  illness, 
hastened  to  his  bedside,  and  reached  him  in  time  to  cheer 
his  dying  hours.  She,  too,  fell  a  victim,  and  in  the  course 
of  a  few  days  was  laid  by  his  side.  One  of  the  most  beau 
tiful  spots  in  the  cemetery  in  that  city,  is  that  where  Ed 
ward  Wordsworth,  and  Ellen  his  wife,  sleep  side  by  side ; 
a  spot  which  many  feet  visit,  and  upon  which  many  hands 
yet  drop  flowers.  Esther  was  taken  into  the  arms  and 
into,  the  heart  of  Mrs.  Springfield,  who  was  childless,  and 
she  has  resided  with  her  ever  since.  Masters  have  been 
called  in  to  instruct  her,  and  a  governess  was  for  four 
years  in  the  family,  but  she  has  never  been  in  a  public 
school.  And  now  you  know  the  history  of  Miss  Words 
worth,"  said  Waring,  as  they  entered  one  of  the  broad 
walks  of  the  garden. 

"But  does  she  teach?"  asked  De  Vane.  "I  suppose 
that  she  inherits  her  father's  estate,  of  course.  Why  should 
she  teach  ?  " 

Waring  smiled.  "  I  see,  De  Vane,  that  your  aristocratic 
tastes  are  offended.  Yes,  she  teaches  !  Some  day  we  will 
visit  her  school.  It  is  not  very  far  from  here,  and  lies  hid 
den  away  in  a  garden  almost  as  large  as  this." 


DE  VANE.  25 

Gay  groups  were  seen  in  the  wide  grounds,  and  a  fash 
ionable  party  promenaded  in  the  walk  just  before  them. 

Fruits,  flowers,  and  birds  yet  rejoiced  in  the  lingering 
autumn,  and  the  sun  shed  almost  summer  splendors  over 
the  scene.   The  two  friends  took  one  or  two  turns  through 
the  ground,  and  then  departed  for  the  College. 
2 


CHAPTER  III. 

"SnLL  in  the  soul  sounds  the  deep  underchirae 
Of  some  immeasurable,  boundless  time. 

For  otherwise,  why  thus  should  man  deplore 

To  part  with  his  short  being?    Why  thus  sigh 

O'er  things  which  fade  around,  and  are  no  more; 

While,  heedless  of  their  doom,  they  live  and  die, 

And  yield  up  their  sweet  breaths,  nor  reason  why, 

But  that  within  us,  while  so  fast  we  flee, 

The  image  dwells  of  God's  eternity?"  WILLIAMS. 

THE  next  day  was  Sunday.  The  morning  rose  upon  the 
earth  in  cloudless  splendor.  The  serene  heavens  seemed 
to  bend  nearer  to  a  redeemed  world,  as  if  they  would  em 
brace  and  purify  it.  The  mocking-bird  poured  its  joyous 
song  upon  the  air ;  and  the  robin  uttered  its  quick  cheer 
ful  notes,  as  it  sprang  from  branch  to  branch  of  the  China- 
trees,  with  which  the  town  abounded. 

De  Yane  looked  out  upon  nature,  but  he  turned  away 
and  plunged  into  his  books. 

Waring  went  to  church,  as  he  did  habitually.  No  stu 
dies  could  tempt  him  from  attending  the  morning  and 
the  evening  service. 

Upon  his  return  he  entered  the  apartments  of  De  Yane, 
and  found  him  deep  in  his  studies. 

"  Where  have  you  been,  Waring  ?  " 

"  Where  you  should  have  been,"  replied  the  other.  "  I 
have  been  engaged  in  worshipping  that  God  who  made 
the  heavens  and  the  earth — both  so  bright  to-day." 

"Ah  !  Waring,  you  are  a  Christian." 
(26) 


DE  VANE.  27 

"  And  what  are  you  ?  "  lie  asked. 

"  Come,  come,  sit  down,"  said  De  Vane,  "  and  then  you 
may  read  me  a  lecture." 

"  De  Yane,  will  you  go  with  me  this  evening,  if  I  call 
for  you  ?  " 

"  To  go  where  ?  "  asked  De  Vane. 

"To  the  Methodist  Church.  Mr.  Springfield  is  to 
preach :  it  was  announced  this  morning." 

"  Most  willingly,"  replied  De  Vane ;  "  but  to  tell  you 
the  truth,  I  never  was  in  a  Methodist  chapel  in  my  life. 
To  hear  Mr.  Springfield,  however,  I  will  go.  I  feel  quite 
an  interest  in  him." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Waring ;  "  I  will  call  for  you  at 
seven  o'clock.  We  must  go  early  to  find  a  seat ;  they  are 
all  free,  you  understand;  and  Mr.  Springfield  attracts 
large  congregations." 

Punctually  at  seven  Waring  called,  and  they  walked  to 
the  church,  or  meeting-house,  as  it  was  most  frequently 
called.  It  was  a  large  framed  building,  destitute  of  or 
naments,  and  seated  with  benches,  a  rail  running  down 
the  middle  of  each  row  of  seats,  dividing  them ;  the  two 
sexes  being  rigidly  separated  during  public  worship.  The 
building  was  already  crowded ;  but  Waring  being  a  well- 
known  member  of  the  church,  found  a  seat  for  De  Vane 
and  himself  quite  near  the  pulpit. 

As  De  Vane  took  his  seat,  he  surveyed  the  scene ;  it  was 
new  to  him.  A  gallery  ran  along  the  end  and  two  sides  of 
the  building,  for  the  accommodation  of  the  blacks ;  and  it 
was  filled  with  them.  The  pulpit  was  high  above  the 
seats  of  the  building,  as  if  its  construction  was  designed 
to  impress  the  hearers  with  the  authority  of  the  preacher. 
Clusters  of  candles,  hung  against  the  walls,  and  the  pillars 
which  supported  the  gallery,  lighted  the  house.  De  Vane 
was  impressed  with  the  air  of  quiet  earnestness,  which 
pervaded  the  audience,  composed  mainly  of  well-dressed 


28  DE  VANE. 

people,  apparently  in  the  middle  walks  of  life;  but  lie 
observed  many  who  were  evidently  of  the  higher  and 
wealthier  class,  and  some  gentlemen  whom  he  knew  to 
be  persons  of  distinction,  among  them  Mr.  Hallam,  a  man 
of  the  very  highest  intellect,  and  Dr.  Dahlgreen,  who  sel 
dom  attended  any  religious  service,  and  who  was  sus 
pected  of  entertaining  the  sceptical  opinions  attributed 
quite  generally  to  Dr.  Hume,  the  President  of  the  College. 
At  this  moment  two  ladies  entered  the  opposite  aisle,  and 
took  their  seats  upon  the  very  bench  where  De  Vane  and 
Waring  were  seated ;  the  former  separated  from  them  only 
by  a  slight  strip.  They  were  Mrs.  Springfield  and  Es 
ther;  and  De  Yane  found  himself  by  the  very  side  of  the 
latter.  His  heart  beat  quick;  for  his  eyes  met  Esther's 
as  she  entered,  and  she  recognized  him  instantly.  The 
ladies  knelt,  and  engaged  for  a  few  moments  in  silent 
prayer.  Mr.  Springfield  entered  by  a  door  in  the  rear  of 
the  building,  and  ascended  the  pulpit.  He  rose,  and  there 
was  deep  silence  throughout  the  crowded  assemblage ;  he 
opened  the  services  by  reading  the  sixty-seventh  Psalm — 
that  grand  appeal  to  God — to  cause  his  face  to  shine  upon 
the  people ;  and  teaching  that,  when  the  people  acknow 
ledged  God,  even  temporal  blessings  would  abound. 
Then  followed  the  hymn : 

*'  Thou  God  of  glorious  majesty, 

To  thee,  against  myself,  to  thee 
A  worm  of  earth  I  cry  ! 
A  half-awakened  child  of  man, 
An  heir  of  endless  bliss  or  pain, 

A  sinner  born  to  die. 

;  *  Lo  on  a  narrow  neck  of  land, 
'Twixt  two  unbounded  seas  I  stand, 

Secure,  insensible  ! 
A  point  of  time,  a  moment's  space, 
Removes  me  to  that  heavenly  place, 

Or  shuts  me  up  in  hell. 


DE   VANE.  29 

"  0  God  !  mine  inmost  soul  convert, 

And  deeply  on  my  thoughtful  heart 
*  Eternal  things  impress ; 

Give  me  to  feel  their  solemn  weight, 
And  tremble  on  the  brink  of  fate, 
And  wake  to  righteousness." 

The  whole  congregation  rose  to  their  feet,  and  united 
their  voices  in  singing  the  lines;  the  blacks  in  the 
gallery  joined  in  the  song,  and  swelled  the  mighty 
stream  of  sound,  which  rolled  upward,  and  away  to  the 
throne  of  God.  Esther's  voice  rose  rich  and  clear,  every 
word  distinctly  uttered;  and  such  was  the  ravishing 
sweetness  of  her  tones,  that  De  Vane  felt  as  if  an  angel 
stood  by  his  side,  to  lead  him  to  the  gates  of  heaven. 
Such  music  he  had  never  heard  before.  The  tones  of  Es 
ther  were  not  lost  in  the  volume  of  the  swelling  sound 
about  her;  but  with  a  clear  tender  cadence  they  pene 
trated  the  very  depths  of  the  soul,  and  De  Yane  felt  the 
tears  starting  to  his  eyes.  After  the  first  stanza  had  been 
sung,  Esther,  observing  that  De  Vane  did  not  join  in  the 
music,  handed  him  her  own  book ;  and  standing  nearer  to 
Mrs.  Springfield,  used  hers.  The  prayer  followed  the 
hymn,  the  congregation  kneeling,  in  which  act  of  devotion 
De  Vane's  good  breeding  made  him  take  part.  A  second 
hymn  succeeded  the  prayer,  and  the  text  was  announced, 
without  the  least  preface.  It  was  from  the  Acts  of  the 
Apostles,  seventeenth  chapter,  thirtieth  and  thirty-first 
verses  :  "  And  the  times  of  this  ignorance  God  winked  at ; 
but  now  commandeth  all  men  everywhere  to  repent :  be 
cause  he  hath  appointed  a  day,  in  the  which  he  will  judge 
the  world  in  righteousness,  by  that  man  whom  he  hath 
ordained ;  whereof  he  hath  given  assurance  to  all  men, 
in  that  he  hath  raised  him  from  the  dead." 

The  sermon  was  of  the  highest  order.  It  brought  Athens 
to  view,  and  portrayed  the  scene  where  the  first  great 


80  DE  VANE. 

public  conflict  took  place  between  Christianity  and  en 
lightened  Paganism.  It  represented  St.  Paul,  standing  on 
the  Areopagus,  surrounded  by  temples  and  statues,  by 
all  that  was  majestic  or  graceful  in  architecture,  and  ele 
vated  and  refined  in  art;  the  spot  where  the  intellect 
of  Greece  displayed  its  highest  forms,  and  achieved  its 
noblest  triumphs.  It  depicted  the  Apostle  with  his  learn 
ing,  his  courage,  and  his  ardor,  rebuking  the  vain  attempts 
of  man  to  embody  the  Deity  in  visible  forms;  and  an 
nouncing  the  sublime  truth  that,  since  the  coming  of 
Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  incarnate,  suffering,  dying, 
triumphing,  the  world  was  under  a  higher  responsibility 
than  before;  and  that  God  would  bring  all  men  before 
the  dread  tribunal  of  that  august  Being  who,  shrouding 
for  a  time  the  splendors  of  his  divinity  in  the  human  form, 
had  actually  submitted  to  death  for  us;  but  who  had 
risen  again,  refulgent  with  the  glory  of  an  all-conquering 
Prince. 

De  Vane  was  borne  away  by  the  rich,  massive  current 
of  thought,  which  was  wholly  new  to  him,  and  he  for  the 
first  time  saw  the  glory  of  classical  learning  pale  before 
the  higher  glory  of  Christianity.  The  temples  of  anti 
quity,  and  the  whole  gorgeous  world  of  mythology,  per 
ished  before  him,  and  the  cross  stood  the  symbol  of  the 
world's  hope,  bathed  in  the  serene  light  of  heaven. 

At  the  close  of  the  sermon,  the  whole  audience  seemed 
released  from  some  invisible  influence  which  had  held  them 
in  moveless  subjection ;  and  a  stir — an  indescribable  mov 
ing  of  feet  and  change  of  posture — evinced  how  earnest 
had  been  the  attention  of  the  whole  living  mass  during  its 
delivery. 

A  young  minister  rose,  offered  a  prayer,  another  hymn 
was  sung,  and  then  the  congregation  dispersed.  De  Vane 
instantly  extended  his  hand  to  Esther,  and  she  saw  that 
he  was  deeply  moved.  Mrs.  Springfield,  too,  came  forward, 


DE  VANE.  31 

and  gave  him  her  hand  warmly,  inviting  both  Waring  and 
himself  to  visit  them.  De  Vane  gladly  promised  to  join 
his  friend  in  his  future  visits  to  the  family,  and,  taking  his 
leave  of  the  ladies,  he  put  his  arm  in  that  of  Waring,  and 
they  turned  their  steps  toward  the  College. 

"  Well,  De  Vane,"  said  Waring,  "  what  do  you  think  of 
a  Methodist  meeting  ?" 

"  I  must  say,"  he  answered,  "  that  I  am  amazed.  I  never 
witnessed  any  thing  so  impressive.  The  music,  or  rather 
the  singing,  was  glorious,  and  the  sermon  was  the  finest  to 
which  I  ever  listened.  I  am  almost  ready  to  say  that  I 
never  heard  true  eloquence  before.  How  the  whole  pagan 
world  shrunk,  dwarfed  before  the  majesty  of  the  Redeem- 
der,  sublimer  in  his  death  than  all  the  gods  in  their  tri 
umphs  !" 

"  I  rejoice  to  hear  you  speak  thus,  De  Vane.  It  proves 
what  I  have  long  believed,  that  you  are  capable  of  appre 
ciating  goodness  and  truth,  wherever  you  find  them." 

"  I  deserve  no  credit,"  said  De  Yane.  "  Any  one  would 
have  been  impressed  by  what  we  have  witnessed  this 
evening.  Oh !  that  my  aunt,  Mrs.  De  Vane,  could  have 
been  present.  I  must  write  her  such  a  description  of  it 
as  I  am  able  to  give.  Waring,  Miss  Wordsworth  is  al 
most " 

"An  angel?"  interrupted  Waring.  "  I  do  not  think  she 
has  wings." 

"  I  trust  not,"  said  De  Vane,  "  for  she  might  spread 
them  and  quit  this  world,  to  seek  her  native  home  above 
those  stars." 

The  heavens  were  brilliant ;  countless  numbers  of  stars 
burned  in  the  deep  blue.  The  cool  October  air  was  pure, 
and  the  angelic  hosts  seemed  to  look  out  from  the  sky,  to 
light  the  pilgrims  of  earth  to  the  realms  of  the  happy  and 
the  immortal. 


CHAPTER    IT. 

HER  voice  is  hovering  o'er  my  soul.    It  lingers, 
O'ershadowing  it  with  soft  and  lulling  wings ; 

The  blood  and  life  within  those  snowy  fingers 
Teach  witchcraft  to  the  instrumental  strings. 

PEKCY  BTSCHE  SHBLLKT. 

As  the  students  were  leaving  the  College  chapel,  after 
evening  prayer,  Waring  put  his  arm  in  that  of  De  Vane, 
and  walked  out  with  him.  "  De  Yane,  I  have  a  note  from 
Mrs.  Springfield.  She  wishes  me  to  ask  you  to  join  me 
to-morrow  evening  at  her  house.  They  receive  visitors 
every  Thursday  evening,  and  I  think  you  will  be  pleased, 
if  you  can  spare  an  hour  or  two  from  study,  to  meet  some 
persons  who  will  probably  be  there." 

"  I  shall  go,  with  great  pleasure,"  said  De  Yane. 

Little  did  Waring  comprehend  the  thrill  of  joy  that 
warmed  the  soul  of  his  friend  at  the  thought  of  meeting 
Esther  once  more.  De  Yane  was  ardent,  but  he  was  sen 
sitive  and  proud ;  and  while  he  did  not  hesitate  to  express 
his  admiration  for  Miss  Wordsworth  in  glowing  terms, 
yet  Waring  supposed  it  was  only  the  language  of  a  nat 
ural  homage  to  a  person  of  such  resplendent  beauty.  But 
De  Yane  was  conscious  of  a  far  intenser  sentiment  than 
that  which  we  call  admiration.  He  had  often  admired 
women,  but  now  he  felt  his  whole  nature  moved.  The 
first  warm  ray  of  real  love  beamed  upon  his  soul,  and  it 
responded,  like  the  statue  of  Memnon,  to  the  rising  sun— 
if  not  in  vocal  tones,  in  thrilling  consciousness  of  the  new 
power  which  controlled  him.  He  was  himself  amazed  at 

(32) 


DE   VANE.  33 

the  strength  of  his  own  passion ;  for  he  felt  that  already 
the  ascendency  of  the  young,  bright  girl  whom  he  had  so 
lately  met  was  complete.  Her  beauty  at  once  attracted 
him,  and  her  manners,  her  intellect,  her  cultivation,  so  far 
transcending  what  he  had  seen  in  others,  asserted  their 
domain  over  him  triumphantly. 

Thursday  evening  came,  and  when  De  Yane  entered  the 
parlor  with  Waring,  he  found  the  room  pretty  well  filled 
with  persons,  engaged  in  animated  conversation.  Mrs. 
Springfield  welcomed  them  warmly,  and  presented  them 
to  two  gentlemen  who  were  conversing  with  her  as  they 
entered.  One  of  these  was  Mr.  Hallam,  whose  fine  face, 
full  of  kindness  and  intelligence,  De  Vane  remembered  to 
have  seen  on  more  than  one  occasion ;  but  as  he  had  not 
gone  into  society  generally,  he  had  not  met  him  before. 
There  was  an  awkwardness  in  his  lounging  attitudes  that 
gave  him  the  appearance  of  rusticity,  and  his  modesty  was 
such  that  he  was  easily  embarrassed ;  but  his  fine  mind 
shone  out  everywhere.  He  engaged  De  Vane  at  once  in 
conversation,  and  soon  interested  the  young  student  so 
deeply,  that  he  was  startled  when  Waring,  coming  up  to 
him  some  little  time  after,  laid  his  hand  on  his  shoulder, 
and  asked  leave  to  interrupt  him,  that  he  might  present 
him  to  some  other  persons. 

They  walked  into  the  next  room — the  library — into 
which  the  parlor  opened  by  two  doors,  with  a  pier  be 
tween  ;  and  De  Vane  observed  that  it  was  furnished  with 
exquisite  taste.  The  walls  on  three  sides  were  hung  with 
pictures,  and  the  third  wall  was  fitted  with  shelves  for 
books,  and  entirely  filled  with  them.  Large,  handsome 
fauteuils,  sofas  covered  with  bright  stuff,  and  a  few  light, 
tasteful  chairs,  were  placed  in  the  room  so  as  to  afford 
seats  for  those  who  wished  to  examine  a  book  or  print  in 
any  part  of  the  room.  A  rosewood  cabinet-table  stood 
near  the  centre  of  the  floor,  and  rich  crimson  silk  curtains 

3* 


34:  DE  VANE. 

draped  the  windows.  On  the  white  marble  mantel  stood  a 
splendid  French  clock,  ornamented  with  the  figure  of  Pe 
trarch  seated,  his  arm  resting  on  a  tablet,  inscribed  with 
the  name  of  Laura.  Against  the  pier  was  placed  a  piano 
forte,  a  splendid  instrument,  open,  and  some  sheets  of  new 
music  laid  on  it.  Over  the  instrument  hung  a  portrait  of 
Esther,  in  the  highest  style  of  art.  It  was  a  bust,  the  head 
turned  and  looking  away,  so  as  to  show  the  profile  in  part, 
while  yet  the  expression  of  the  whole  face  was  preserved. 
It  was  in  an  oval  frame,  of  a  rich,  massive  style.  De  Vane 
saw  all  this  at  a  glance,  accustomed  as  he  was  at  home  to 
such  surroundings.  Several  gentlemen  were  standing  with 
Mr.  Springfield  as  De  Vane  and  Waring  entered  the  room, 
in  conversation  with  him,  but  when  he  saw  the  students 
he  advanced  to  meet  them. 

"  Mr.  De  Vane,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  I  am  happy  to 
see  you  in  my  house.  Your  friend,  Mr.  Waring,  has  made 
me  feel  as  if  I  had  long  known  you." 

De  Vane  bowed  low,  and  he  was  presented  to  the  other 
gentlemen.  Up  to  this  time,  De  Vane  had  not  seen  Es 
ther;  but,  turning  away  from  the  gentlemen,  who  now 
resumed  their  conversation,  he  saw  her  seated  in  the  midst 
of  a  group  of  ladies,  over  whose  chairs  two  or  three  young 
men  were  bending,  listening  to  a  narrative  which  some 
one  was  giving,  of  a  distressing  accident  which  had  oc 
curred  that  day.  De  Vane  drew  near,  and  Esther  rose  to 
meet  him,  extending  her  hand  to  him  with  frank  cordiality. 
He  joined  the  group,  and  the  conversation  became  general. 

"  Ah !  Miss  Wordsworth,  you  are,  as  usual,  surrounded 
in  such  a  way  that  .one  with  less  courage  than  I  possess 
would  hardly  venture  to  attempt  to  reach  you." 

De  Vane  quickly  turned  to  observe  the  new-comer.  He 
was  a  large,  well-formed  man,  who  appeared  to  be  but  little 
more  than  thirty  years  of  age.  His  ruddy  complexion,  blue 
eyes,  and  light  hair  gave  him  somewhat  the  appearance  of 


DE   VANE.  35 

an  English  gentleman.  His  face  beamed  with  animation, 
and  there  was  unusual  grace  in  his  attitude.  His  voice 
and  his  enunciation  at  once  attracted  and  charmed  De 
Vane,  and  as  he  approached  Esther  he  bowed  very  low, 
and  taking  her  hand,  touched  it  with  his  lips. 

"  O  Mr.  Clarendon  !"  she  exclaimed,  "  I  am  delighted 
to  see  you.  Is  Mrs.  Clarendon  with  you  ?" 

"  Alas  !  no,"  he  replied,  "  she  charged  me  with  kind 
messages  to  you,  but  dared  not  take  the  night-air." 

Esther,  turning  to  De  Yane,  said :  "  I  wish  to  present 
you  to  Mr.  Clarendon  ;  he  too  is  a  Virginian,  and  loves  the 
mountains  of  his  native  State." 

Mr.  Clarendon  shook  his  hand  warmly,  and  expressed 
his  pleasure  at  meeting  him. 

"  I  wonder,"  said  he,  "  that  I  have  not  met  you  before  ; 
you  must  have  hid  yourself." 

"  I  have  not  gone  out  much,"  replied  De  Vane,  "  and 
when  not  engaged  in  College  duties,  I  have  found  in  the 
library  so  much  to  interest  me,  that  I  pass  most  of  my 
hours  there.  I  did  not  know  until  now  how  mu'ch  I  was 
losing." 

Esther  was  standing  by  the  side  of  Mr.  Clarendon,  and 
De  Vane's  glance  was  for  an  instant  turned  on  her  as  he 
said  this.  Still  the  remark  might  have  been  intended  to 
take  in  Mr.  Clarendon  too  ;  and  while  she  colored — she 
was  conscious  that  she  did  so — she  replied  that  she  was 
happy  to  have  the  good  fortune  to  introduce  him  to  her 
friend,  to  whom  she  felt  herself  indebted  for  so  many  bright 
hours. 

Mr.  Clarendon  bowed,  and  said  :  "  Mr.  De  Vane,  I  trust 
you  are  acquainted  with  the  art  of  self-defense ;  if  no't,  I 
suggest  that  you  begin  presently  to  study  it." 

They  all  laughed,  and  the  conversation  took  a  general 
range,  embracing  books,  the  fine  arts,  and  religion — a  sub 
ject  which  Esther  introduced  by  remarking  to  Mr.  Claren- 


86  DE  VANE. 

4 

don,  that  during  the  past  summer  she  had  heard  the  ven 
erable  Bishop  McKendree  preach,  and  added : 

"  I  am  happy  to  say  that  he  is  to  be  here  sometime  this 
winter." 

Mr.  Clarendon  replied :  "  I  am  happy  to  hear  it.  I  have 
been  taught  by  a  good  aunt  of  mine  to  venerate  him,  for 
she  ranks  him  next  to  her  friend  Bishop  Asbury." 

De  Vane  took  part  in  the  conversation,  spoke  with  ani 
mation  upon  the  several  subjects,  and  disclosed  a  degree 
of  cultivation  which  surprised  Mr.  Clarendon ;  while  he, 
on  his  part,  felt  his  admiration  of  that  gentleman  rising 
into  enthusiasm.  Speaking  of  him  to  Esther  afterward, 
he  said  : 

"  Your  friend,  Mr.  Clarendon,  charms  me ;  he  has 

*  The  large  utterance  of  the  early  gods.'  " 

"Did  you  ever  hear  Bishop  McKendree?"  Esther  in 
quired  of  De  Yane. 

"  I  ashamed  to  say,"  he  answered,  "  that  I  never  heard 
any  preacher  of  that  denomination  until  last  Sunday  even 
ing,  and  you  may  imagine  my  surprise — and  gratification." 

"  I  always  go  to  hear  my  friend  Springfield,  Mr.  De 
Vane,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  and  I  will  go  anywhere  to 
hear  a  true  man  who  can  interest  and  instruct  me.  We 
are  too  much  governed  in  our  good  old  commonwealth — 
which  I  love  as  well  as  you  do — by  aristocratic  habits  ; 
and  the  same  thing  may  be  said  of  this  State.  It  is  giving 
way,  however,  to  some  extent  ^  for  intellectual  power  has 
a  certain  majesty  about  it  which  compels  reluctant  homage 
where  it  is  not  freely  yielded ;  and  the  Methodist  Church 
numbers  in  its  ministry  some  men  of  the  highest  order." 

Waring  came  up  at  this  moment. 

"  My  friend,"  said  De  Vane,  turning  to  him,  "  has  said 
so  to  me,  and  I  shall  hereafter  put  myself  under  his  guid 
ance — at  least,  in  spiritual  matters." 


DE  VANE.  37 

"Better  seek  a  better  guide,"  said  Waring  gravely. 
"  There  is  One  always  ready  to  lead  us  into  all  truth." 

"  I  think,  Waring,  you  follow  Him  closely,"  said  De 
Vane,  "  and  if  I  keep  by  your  side,  I  shall  not  be  far  out 
of  the  way." 

Esther  gave  him  a  smile,  which  showed  how  she  valued 
this  frank  tribute  to  the  worth  of  Waring. 

Mr.  Clarendon  said  :  "  Miss  Wordsworth,  will  you  give 
us  some  music  ?" 

She  took  his  arm,  and  he  seated  her  at  the  piano. 

"  What  shall  I  give  you,  Mr.  Clarendon  ?" 

"  There  is  a  song  that  has  just  been  written  by  a  friend 
of  mine,  a  Georgian,  an  eminent  lawyer,  and  I  believe  it 
has  been  set  to  music,"  he  replied.  "It  is  very  sad 
though — perhaps  too  much  so  for  you  : 

'  My  life  is  like  the  summer  rose.' " 

"  I  have  it  here,"  said  Esther ;  "  it  was  sent  to  me  to 
day  by  the  author  of  the  lines,  who  was  a  friend  of  my 
mother."  Her  voice  almost  trembled. 

She  took  up  one  of  the  sheets  of  music  lying  near  her, 
spread  it  before  her,  and  running  her  fingers  over  the  keys 
of  the  instrument,  drew  from  it  such  notes  that  it  seemed 
to  have  a  soul.  Her  golden  hair  fell  in  rich  ringlets  about 
her  face,  except  the  heavy  braid  which  was  held  by  a  clasp 
of  Etruscan  gold  on  the  back  of  the  head,  and  the  blue  of 
heaven  shone  in  the  lustre  of  her  eyes.  She  seemed  to 
De  Vane  a  youthful  priestess,  transcending  in  her  loveli 
ness,  the  highest  impersonations  of  classical  beauty ;  warm, 
and  yet  pure,  as  if  an  angel  had  come  for  a  season  to  so 
journ  on  earth  and  bring  human  passion  under  the  domin 
ion  of  Christian  sentiment. 

She  sang  the  lines  with  indescribable  tenderness,  and  it 
seemed  as  if  the  very  spirit  of  sadness  dwelt  under  the 
keys  which  she  touched. 


38  DE  VANE. 

"  My  life  is  like  the  summer  rose 

That  opens  to  the  morning  sky, 
But  ere  the  shades  of  evening  close 

Is  scattered  on  the  ground — to  die  ! 
Yet  on  the  rose's  humble  bed 

The  sweetest  dews  of  night  are  shed, 
As  if  she  wept  the  waste  to  see — 

But  none  shall  weep  a  tear  for  me ! 

"  My  life  is  like  the  autumn  leaf 

That  trembles  to  the  moon's  pale  ray ; 
Its  hold  is  frail — its  date  is  brief, 

Restless,  and  soon  to  pass  away  ! 
Yet,  ere  that  leaf  shall  fall  and  fade, 

The  parent  tree  will  mourn  its  shade, 
The  winds  bewail  the  leafless  tree — 

But  none  shall  weep  a  tear  for  me  ! 

14  My  life  is  like  the  prints  which  feet 

Have  left  on  Tampa's  desert  strand  ; 
Soon  as  the  rising  tide  shall  beat, 

All  trace  will  vanish  from  the  sand. 
Yet,  as  if  grieving  to  efface 

All  vestige  of  the  human  race, 
On  that  lone  shore  loud  moans  the  sea — 

But  none,  alas  !  shall  mourn  for  me  !" 

"  The  lines  are  very  beautiful,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon, 
"but,  oh!  how  sad." 

"  And  do  you  not  love  sad  music  ?"  she  asked,  look 
ing  up. 

"  Not  at  all  times — I  am  capricious ;  but  I  love  youi 
music,  whether  it  be  joyous,  or  steeped  in  sorrow." 

De  Vane  had  not  uttered  a  word — he  could  not.  Esther 
turned  to  him,  and  asked  if  there  were  any  piece  of  music 
which  he  especially  admired.  He  roused  himself,  and 
breathed  deeply,  as  if  just  restored  to  consciousness. 

"  Do  you  sing  Jephthah's  Daughter,  Byron's  Hebrew 
melody  ?"  he  inquired. 


DE  VANE.  39 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  "  but  that,  too,  is  sad." 

"  I  can  scarcely  feel  that  any  thing  deserves  the  name 
of  music  that  is  not  sad,"  said  De  Vane. 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you,"  she  answered  with  animation, 
"  except  in  sacred  music.  There  I  love  the  joyous,  the  ex 
ultant,  the  triumphant,  as  well  as  the  tender." 

"  You  should  hear  the  Miserere,  Miss  Wordsworth,  as  I 
have  heard  it  in  Rome,  if  you  would  comprehend  the  depths 
of  sadness  in  music,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon. 

Quite  a  number  of  persons  had  now  gathered  about  the 
piano.  Esther  touched  the  keys  and  sang,  with  unrivalled 
pathos,  the  song  for  which  De  Vane  had  asked ;  and  as 
she  uttered  the  prolonged  cadence  of  the  closing  line — 

"  And  forget  not  I  smiled  as  I  died  I" 

tears  were  in  the  eyes  of  many  who  heard  her.  De  Yane 
could  not  conceal  his  emotion,  and  he  observed  that  Mr. 
Clarendon  was  moved  ;  but  that  gentleman  said : 

"  Miss  Wordsworth,  I  did  not  come  here  this  evening  to 
have  the  fountain  of  my  tears  unsealed,  and  I  shall  insist 
upon  something  brighter  than  all  this." 

"  Yet,"  said  Esther,  "  what  a  glory  breaks  over  the 
dirge — what  a  wild,  passionate,  exultant  triumph  bursts 
forth  from  the  dying  Jewish  maiden,  as  she  remembers 
that  she  had  won  the  great  battle  for  her  sire,  and  that 
her  country  was  free  !  How  grandly  she  says : 

'  Though  the  virgins  of  Salem  lament, 
Be  the  judge  and  the  hero  unbent !'  " 

"  Thanks,  Miss  Wordsworth — thanks,"  exclaimed  De 
Yane,  "  for  your  vindication  of  my  taste." 

"  The  wonder  with  me  is,"  said  Waring,  "  that  Lord 
Byron  could  write  such  a  song." 

"  Men  are  often  much  misunderstood,"  said  De  Yane. 
"  Lord  Byron  had  in  his  nature  the  elements  of  religion ; 
if  he  sinned,  he  was  sorely  sinned  against." 


40  DE  VANE. 

"  His  religious  elements  must  have  been  sadly  perverted, 
to  permit  him  to  live  as  he  lived,  and  to  write  as  he  wrote," 
rejoined  Waring. 

"  Yet,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  if  he  was  a  fallen  angel, 
he  was  like  Milton's — his  form  had  not  lost  all  the  original 
brightness." 

Esther  looked  at  him  as  if  grateful  that  he  had  said  a 
word  somewhat  favorable  to  De  Vane's  estimate  of  the 
noble  poet. 

"  Esther,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  will  you  give  us  one 
of  your  sacred  songs  ?" 

"  Gladly,"   she   replied ;   and   she   sang   that   beautiful 

hymn, 

"  Rock  of  ages,  cleft  for  me  ;" 

while  Waring  accompanied  her,  his  voice  sustaining  hers 
admirably.  Again  De  Vane  was  subdued,  and  could  only 
bow,  as  the  song  ceased  and  she  rose  from  her  seat. 

"  That,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  " excels  the  Miserere"  and 
then  added :  "  Is  that  line  of  the  first  song  which  you  gave 
us,  Miss  Wordsworth — where  the  prints  which  feet  leave 
on  Tampa's  desert  strand  are  introduced — correct  ?  Does 
not  the  writer  mean  Tempe  ?" 

"  I  should  refer  that  critical  difficulty  to  you  for  solu 
tion,"  she  replied. 

"  Well,  I  am  a  little  puzzled  about  it,"  said  he. 

"  I  think,"  said  De  Vane,  "  that  the  author  of  the  lines 
means  what  he  has  written.  The  vale  of  Tempe  in  Thes- 
saly,  can  hardly  be  called  desert,  for  its  charms  are  well 
known,  and  the  banks  of  the  Peneus,  which  flows  through 
it,  could  not,  by  even  poetical  license,  be  described  as  a 
strand. 

"  What,  then,  can  he  mean  ?  Where  is  Tampa  ?"  said 
Mr.  Clarendon. 

"  It  is  on  the  coast  of  Florida,"  said  De  Vane.  "  It  so 
happened  that  I  made  a  visit  to  that  coast  just  before  I 


DE   VANE.  41 

entered  college ;  and  hearing  the  temperature  of  Tampa 
spoken  of  as  favorable  to  invalids,  I  passed  some  weeks 
there.  A  more  sad  and  even  desert  strand  I  do  not  know 
anywhere  ;  and  the  wail  of  the  sea  on  the  lone  shore  is  the 
most  mournful  of  earthly  sounds." 

"  You  have  solved  the  problem,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon. 
"  I  thought  Wilde  had  been  using  his  prerogative  as  a 
poet  somewhat  freely ;  for  I  remember  how  the  valley  of 
Tempe  impressed  me  with  its  wild  beauty — Ossa  on  the 
one  side,  and  Olympus,  rich  with  its  woods  and  herbage, 
on  the  other.  It  was  not  a  desert." 

De  Vane  had  made  a  life-long  friend  of  Mr.  Clarendon. 
Before  taking  leave  of  Mrs.  Springfield,  he  said  to  her : 

"Madam,  I  commend  that  young  Virginian  to  you. 
He  is  my  countryman,  and  I  am  proud  of  him.  If  I  read 
him  rightly,  Virginia  will  be  still  prouder  of  him."  . 

The  evening  closed.  The  guests  departed,  and  De  Vane 
felt  as  if  his  real  life  had  just  begun.  Light  had  spread 
over  his  soul  as  over  the  young  world,  when  it  was  said : 
"  The  evening  and  the  morning  were  the  first  day." 


CHAPTER    V. 

MOTHER,  mother,  up  in  heaven, 

Stand  up  on  the  jasper  sea, 
And  be  witness  I  have  given 

All  the  gifts  required  of  me. 

ELIZABETH  BARRETT  BROWNING. 

WHEN  Saturday  came — the  college  exercises  being  sus 
pended,  that  the  students  might  seek  recreation  outside  of 
the  grounds — Waring  and  De  Vane  walked  together  into 
the  town. 

When  we  first  love,  a  new  glory  seems  to  overspread 
the  face  of  nature.  The  soul  invests  every  object  with  its 
own  hue ;  the  heavens  above  and  the  earth  beneath,  yield 
us  their  sympathy  ;  and  hope  sheds  a  glow,  surpassing  the 
splendor  of  tropical  sunlight,  over  all  the  future.  De 
Vane  thought  he  had  never  beheld  a  season  so  lovely. 
The  autumnal  glories  which  met  his  view  ;  the  leaves  just 
changing  their  hues  under  the  early  frost ;  the  lingering 
roses  which  breathed  their  fragrance  upon  the  pure  air; 
the  songs  of  birds  that  never  deserted  the  spot  where  they 
uttered  their  first  notes  in  spring  for  a  milder  climate,  even 
in  winter — all  made  the  little  world  about  him  seem  a  far 
brighter  region  than  the  happy  valley  of  Rasselas. 

"  Waring,"  said  he,  "  you  were  to  take  me  to  see  Miss 
Wordsworth's  school ;  shall  we  go  there  now  ?" 

Waring  smiled.  "  Why,  De  Vane,"  said  he,  "  this  is  a 
holiday,  and  we  shall  not  find  Miss  Wordsworth  there." 

"  Still,"  said  De  Vane,  "  I  should  like  to  see  the  place 
(42) 


DE  VANE.  43 

where  she  spends  her  days.     How  is  it  that  she  can  bring 
herself  to  submit  to  such  drudgery  ?" 

"I  shall  answer  you  as  Philip  did,  when  Nathanael 
asked  him  if  any  good  thing  could  come  "out  of  Nazareth : 
'  Come  and  see.'  " 

In  the  eastern  part  of  the  town,  not  very  far  from  the 
public  garden,  which  De  Vane  had  already  visited  in  com 
pany  with  Waring,  there  was  another,  covering  some  two 
acres  of  ground,  inclosed  with  a  neat  fence,  inside  of  which 
was  a  hedge  of  wild  orange-trees,  that  shut  in  the  grounds 
from  observation.  The  two  students  entered  the  gate, 
and  found  themselves  in  the  midst  of  evergreens,  so  rich 
and  profuse,  that  De  Yane  felt  as  if  he  had  been  suddenly 
transported  to  the  tropics.  Hardy  flowers — such  as  re 
quired  little  cultivation — bloomed  still,  and  a  few  rare 
ones  were  seen  protected  by  the  vigorous  shrubbery  near 
them.  Winding  walks  led  through  the  grounds,  neatly 
kept,  and  they  converged  upon  a  central  spot,  where  a 
small  edifice,  in  the  cottage  style,  stood.  The  main  build 
ing  was  a  framed  structure  of  two  stories,  with  a  wing  on 
either  end,  and  with  light  piazzas  connecting  with  the 
porch  of  the  principal  house.  Creepers  covered  it  almost 
completely,  the  ivy  climbing  to  the  very  top  of  the  chim 
neys,  and  waving  its  branches  like  little  banners.  A  broad 
gravelled  walk  passed  quite  around  the  house,  cutting  it 
off  like  an  island  from  the  surrounding  garden.  As  the 
students  approached  the  house,  they  met  an  old,  respect 
able-looking  black  man,  with  a  rake  in  his  hand,  who  at 
once  recognized  Waring,  and  evidently  regarded  him  as  a 
friend. 

"  How  are  you  this  morning,  Uncle  Jacob  ?"  exclaimed 
Waring. 

"  Thank  the  Lord,  Master  Waring,"  said  the  old  man, 
taking  off  his  hat,  "  I'm  well ;  and  I  hope  I  sees  you  well, 
too." 


44  DE   VANE. 

"  Yes,  thank  you,"  said  Waring  ;  "  and  I  have  brought 
my  young  friend  here  to  see  the  school.  He's  from  Yir 
ginia." 

"  Mighty  glad-  to  see  him,"  said  the  old  man ;  "  I'm 
from  Virginny,  too." 

"  Are  you,  indeed,  Uncle  Jacob  ?"  said  De  Vane  heart 
ily  ;  "  then  I'm  your  countryman,  and  we  must  get  to  be 
good  friends." 

Old  Jacob  was  highly  gratified,  and  he  bowed  very 
humbly  to  the  young  gentleman,  scraping  his  foot  under 
him  as  he  bent  his  head  low. 

"  Is  Mrs.  Greene  at  home  ?"  asked  Waring. 

"  Oh  !  yes,  master,  and  my  Missis,  too,"  said  Jacob. 

"  What !  is  Miss  Wordsworth  here  ?  Why,  Uncle  Ja 
cob,  it's  Saturday — don't  she  give  holiday  ?" 

"  Yes,  master  ;  but  she  comes  sometimes  Saturday,  too ; 
and  she  fetched  a  little  girl  with  her  to-day,  that  an't 
been  here  before." 

Bidding  the  old  man  good  morning,  the  gentlemen 
walked  directly  to  the  house. 

"  That  old  negro,"  said  De  Vane,  "  is  thoroughly  well- 
bred." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Waring,  "  I  have  often  observed  it ;  he 
belongs  to  Miss  Wordsworth  —  was  one  of  her  father's 
slaves — and  is  now  a  sort  of  patriarch.  She  keeps  him 
employed  here  in  looking  after  the  grounds  ;  and  he  is  as 
happy  as  the  days  are  long." 

"  His  language  is  good,"  said  De  Vane  ;  "  and  he  seems 
to  be  as  humble  as  if  he  had  never  been  indulged." 

"  Yes,  he  loves  his  young  mistress — thinks  himself  too 
happy  in  being  permitted  to  serve  her ;  and  he  is  a  Christ 
ian." 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  house.  Waring 
knocked  at  the  door,  and  it  was  opened  by  the  little  girl 
who  had  accompanied  Esther  to  the  book-store.  She 


DE  VANE.  45 

looked  up  into  Waring's  face  with  a  bright  smile,  and 
asked  him  to  walk  in. 

"  How  are  you  this  morning,  Mary  ?"  said  Waring, 
stooping  to  kiss  the  child.  "  Do  you  not  remember  this 
gentleman  ?" 

"  Oh  !  yes,  sir ;  I  saw  him  with  you  at  the  book-store." 

De  Yane  took  her  hand,  and  thanked  her  for  not  having 
forgotten  him. 

They  entered  the  little  hall  of  the  cottage ;  and  Mary, 
throwing  open  the  door  of  the  room  on  the  right,  invited 
them  to  follow  her.  As  they  entered,  they  found  Esther 
seated  on  a  low  chair,  two  or  three  little  girls  standing 
by  her,  and  a  still  smaller  child  seated  on  a  cushion  at  her 
feet ;  a  bright  fire  blazed  on  the  hearth,  neat,  simple  fur 
niture  was  arranged  in  the  room  tastefully,  and  chintz 
curtains  hung  from  the  windows  ;  a  middle-aged,  respect 
able-looking  woman  stood  near  the  group.  It  was  a  pic 
ture  which  De  Vane  never  ceased  to  remember  ;  a  picture 
hung  forever  in  the  chamber  of  his  memory,  and  which  he 
would  not  have  exchanged  for  Raphael's  master-piece,  or 
Claude  Lorraine's  chef  d'oeuvres. 

Esther  turned  her  face  quickly  toward  the  gentlemen  as 
she  heard  their  tread  on  the  floor,  and  a  glow  overspread 
her  face,  rising  to  her  very  temples  ;  her  attitude  was  one 
of  perfect  grace  ;  and  De  Vane  felt  that  nothing  in  the 
whole  range  of  classical  mythology,  neither  nymph  nor 
goddess,  could  rival  her  as  she  sat  startled,  and  for  a  mo 
ment  moveless  ;  the  profuse  curls  falling  from  her  up 
lifted  face,  the  lips'  parted,  and  the  eyes  flashing  with  an 
earnest  glance. 

"  We  owe  you  an  humble  acknowledgment  of  our  rude 
ness  in  trespassing  upon  you,  Miss  Wordsworth,"  said 
Waring ;  "  but  we  did  not  know  until  we  entered  your 
grounds  that  we  should  find  you  here." 

De  Vane  said  nothing,  but  bowed  very  low.     Esther 


46  DE  VANE. 

rose  and  shook  hands  with  them,  and  expressed  her  grati 
fi  cation  at  their  visit. 

"  I  am  pleased,  Mr.  Waring,  to  see  that  you  and  your 
friend  feel  any  interest  whatever  in  my  little  retreat.  I 
am  not  usually  here  on  Saturday,  but  came  to-day  to  brinfr 
a  new  pupil." 

She  then  introduced  the  gentlemen  to  Mrs.  Green — 
"  my  assistant,"  as  she  said  graciously,  "  in  the  task  of 
taking  care  of  these  little  people." 

She  turned  to  the  girl,  who  still  kept  her  seat  on  the 
cushion,  and  taking  her  hand,  raised  her  to  her  feet.  She 
was  a  child  of  great  beauty,  apparently  some  six  years  of 
age,  whose  dark  eyes  and  glossy  black  curls  presented  a 
perfect  contrast  to  those  of  the  friend  who  had  just 
brought  her  from  her  desolate  home  to  this  "  retreat,"  as 
she  named  it. 

"  You  remember,  Mr.  De  Vane,  do  you  not,  that  you 
heard  at  Mrs.  Springfield's — a  very  painful  narrative  of  a 
sudden  death,  and  of  a  little  girl  left  without  parents,  or 
a  near  relative  in  all  the  world  ?  Well,  this  is  the  child. 
Her  mother  died  about  six  weeks  since,  and  last  Thurs 
day  her  father,  a  young  man  of  excellent  character,  while 
standing  upon  a  scaffold,  fell  backward  and  was  instantly 
killed.  This  was  the  only  child,  and  I  have  brought  her 
here,  that  she  may  be  cared  for.  I  was  just  taking  leave 
of  her  as  you  entered,  having  brought  about  her  some  two 
or  three  little  girls,  who  will  try  to  make  her  happy." 

She  added  not  a  word,  but  invited  the  gentlemen  to 
walk  through  the  grounds  with  her.  De  Vane's  astonish 
ment  could  not  be  expressed.  That  one  so  young,  so 
bright,  so  accomplished,  so  full  of  sympathy  with  all  that 
was  beautiful  in  nature,  in  books,  in  the  living  world,  could 
pass  so  many  hours  in  the  task  of  instructing  little  girls 
how  to  read,  to  write,  to  sing — he  could  not  comprehend. 
He  could  imagine  a  lady  of  fortune  bestowing  her  ample 


DE  VANE.  47 

means  in  charity — in  founding  a  hospital — or  in  establish 
ing  a  school,  and  in  employing  others  to  take  the  dru^g- 
ery  of  the  benevolent  scheme ;  but  that  the  brightness  of 
one's  own  youth  should  be  surrendered  to  this  repulsive 
labor,  was  a  scale  of  self-sacrifice  he  had  not  contemplated. 
His  love  deepened  almost  into  reverence ;  and  he  followed 
her  steps  silently  as  she  walked  with  Waring  in  advance 
of  him.  Reaching  a  spot  somewhat  lower  than  the  level 
upon  which  the  house  stood,  they  came  to  a  spring  of 
water  which  bubbled  out  of  the  gravelly  slope,  and  emp 
tied  into  a  small  marble  basin.  Trees  of  larger  growth 
than  those  in  other  parts  of  the  grounds  sheltered  the 
spot,  and  broke  the  fiery  splendors  of  even  a  Southern 
mid-day  sun.  To-day,  the  clear  sunshine  glancing  through 
the  trees,  imparted  to  them  variegated  lights  and  shad 
ows  ;  and  the  view  of  the  higher  grounds  was  as  if  an  art 
ist  of  surpassing  skill  had  spread  the  rich  tapestry  of  the 
looms  of  France  over  them.  Seats  were  ranged  around 
the  spring,  and  the  party  resting  upon  them  surveyed  the 
limited  but  exquisite  landscape. 

"  I  wonder,  Miss  Wordsworth,"  said  De  Vane,  "  that  I 
never  discovered  this  enchanted  spot  before ;  its  loveliness 
would  have  tempted  me  to  visit  it  often." 

"  Do  you  love  nature  ?"  asked  Esther. 

"  Earnestly,  passionately,"  said  De  Vane.  "  In  the 
primeval  forests  of  Virginia  I  have  learned  almost  to  wor 
ship  her." 

"  It  is  a  taste  in  which  I  fully  sympathize ;  and  I  have 
striven  here  to  shut  out  the  sights  and  sounds  which  dis 
turb  the  perfect  repose  of  nature." 

"  Feeling,  I  suppose,  with  Cowper  that 

'  God  made  the  country,  but  man  made  the  town.' 

You  wish  to  spread  here,  at  the  very  base  of  this  gay  capi 
tal,  the  triumphs  of  nature." 


48  DE  VANE 

"  Yes,"  said  Esther,  "  I  have  an  intenser  consciousness 
of  the  presence  of  God  in  the  midst  of  trees  and  flowers 
than  I  can  have  here  in  the  streets,  or  even  in  the  houses 
about  us.  Do  you  recall  Thomson's  lines  ? 

4  The  love  of  nature  works, 
And  warms  the  bosom,  till,  at  last,  sublimed 
To  rapture  and  enthusiastic  heat, 
"We  feel  the  present  Deity,  and  taste 
The  joy  of  God  to  see  a  happy  world  !'  " 

"  When  very  young,"  replied  De  Vane,  "  I  learned  to 
love  Thomson  ;  for  my  youth  was  passed  in  the  country, 
and  I  observed  the  seasons,  as  we  study  the  human  face ; 
and  the  descriptions  which  he  gives  might,  many  of  them, 
have  been  written  in  the  presence  of  our  own  landscapes. 
Albemarle,  Miss  Wordsworth,  is  unrivalled  for  its  scen 
ery." 

"  So  I  must  believe  from  what  I  have  heard  of  it  from 
others,  but  I  have  not  yet  seen  that  part  of  Virginia. 
Passing  over  the  Piedmont  road,  and  entering  the  mount 
ain  range  of  Southern  Virginia,  I  have  been  deeply  im 
pressed  with  the  grandeur  of  the  scenery." 

"  You  must  not  concede,  Miss  Wordsworth,"  said  War 
ing,  "  that  Virginia  has  all  the  fine  scenery  in  the  country. 
The  State  pride  of  my  friend  is  already  too  great,  and 
we  must  bring  that  down,  if  we  can  not  level  his  boasted 
mountains." 

De  Vane  smiled,  and  asked  :  "  Where,  short  of  Niagara, 
is  there  any  such  scenery  ?" 

"  On  the  French-Broad,"  replied  Waring,  "  to  say  noth 
ing  of  Upper  Georgia,  with  its  waterfalls  second  only  to 
Niagara." 

"  The  French-Broad  !"  exclaimed  De  Vane.  "  I  never 
saw  it,  but  surely  its  scenery  can  not  rival  ours." 

"  The  scenery  along  the  banks  of  the  French-Broad  is 
wonderfully  fine.  Set  out  in  the  morning  from  the  warm 


DE   VANE.  4:9 

springs  of  North-Carolina,  and  make  the  day's  travel  to 
Ashville,  and  you  will  be  amazed  and  bewildered.  The 
river  cuts  its  way  through  mountains.  They  rise  in  steep 
precipices  hundreds  of  feet  above  it  on  both  sides,  fringed 
with  laurel  and  variegated  shrubbery  to  the  very  summit. 
Much  of  the  road  is  made  by  cutting  away  the  solid  rock, 
and  the  wheels  of  your  carriage  actually  dip  in  the  stream 
on  the  one  side,  while  they  scrape  the  mountain-rock  on 
the  other  side." 

"  I  must  at  some  time  see  it,"  said  Esther.  "  I  did  not 
suppose  that  any  thing  so  wild  could  be  found  in  our 
southern  country." 

"  Such  scenery  in  Europe,"  replied  Waring,  "  would  at 
tract  thousands  of  travelers  from  remote  parts,  and  would 
be  world-renowned." 

The  gentlemen,  after  some  further  conversation,  rose 
to  take  leave  of  Esther,  who  invited  them  to  visit  her 
grounds,  as  often  as  it  might  be  agreeable  to  them  to  do 
so.  De  Vane  assured  her  of  the  pleasure  it  would  afford 
him  to  avail  himself  of  her  gracious  invitation  ;  and,  bow 
ing  low  to  her,  followed  Waring,  who  had  already  pre 
ceded  him  in  the  walk. 

When  they  were  once  more  in  the  streets,  De  Vane  put 
his  arm  in  that  of  Waring,  and  said  :  "  I  must  understand 
all  this.  What  does  it  mean,  Waring  ?" 

"  What  ?"  replied  the  other.  "  What  is  there  that  you 
do  not  understand  ?" 

"  When  I  first  met  Miss  Wordsworth,  you  told  me  she 
was  a  Methodist.  Afterward  I  learned  she  was  a  teacher. 
To-day  I  find  that  she  has  established  a  home  for  friendless 
little  girls,  and  that  she  passes  the  greater  part  of  her 
time  there.  Why  should  one  so  young,  so  bright,  so  qual 
ified  to  adorn  society,  give  so  much  of  her  time  to  such 
tasks  ?" 

Waring  walked  on  for  some  minutes  before  he  spoke ; 
he  then  said :  "  De  Yane,  I  respect  you.  Allow  me  to 


50  DE   VAXE. 

say,  I  know  your  high  qualities,  and  am  sincerely  your 
friend.  But  I  am  a  friend  also  to  truth.  You  admire  Miss 
Wordsworth,  that  is  plain ;  but  you  can  not  appreciate 
her.  Your  aristocratic  tastes  and  habits  unfit  you  for  it ; 
you  are  incapable  of  self-denying  labors,  except  such  as 
ambition  prompts  ;  and  you  are  unable  to  comprehend 
how  a  young,  bright,  joyous  nature  can  unostentatiously 
seek  to  do  good,  following  the  humble,  the  poor,  and  the 
outcast  into  their  revolting  abodes,  that  she  may  rescue 
and  save  them.  The  whole  philosophy  of  Miss  Words 
worth's  life  is  to  be  found  in  the  simple  obedience  of  child 
like  faith  :  '  If  any  man  will  be  my  disciple,  let  him  take 
up  his  cross  daily,  and  follow  me.''  " 

De  Vane  was  touched.  He  felt  that  Waring's  rebuke 
was  not  unjust,  and  he  knew  it  was  not  intended  to  be 
harsh.  He  had  almost  shrunk  from  Esther,  when  he 
learned  that  she  was  a  Methodist.  He  was  shocked  when 
he  supposed  that  she  was  a  teacher ;  and  but  for  the  casual 
meeting  at  the  book-store,  where  he  discovered  the  extra 
ordinary  wealth  of  her  mind,  he  might  not  have  sought 
to  know  more  of  her.  And  even  now,  when  he  had  dis 
covered  that  she  did  not  teach  from  any  reference  to  pecu 
niary  reward,  but  solely  under  the  influence  of  a  high  sen- 
1  timent,  he  felt  that  lie  could  not  sympathize  with  that  sen 
timent,  however  much  he  respected  it,  and  he  feared  that 
her  virtues  were  of  too  severe  a  cast.  He  scarcely  knew 
how  to  answer  Waring,  but  he  said  frankly  : 

"  I  may  not  be  able  to  feel  the  dominion  of  a  great  reli 
gious  principle,  or  the  ascendency  of  a  purely  religious 
sentiment,  as  Miss  Wordsworth  does,  or  as  you  do,  War 
ing  ;  but  still  I  must  revere  the  principle,  and  admire  the 
sentiment,  as  I  do  whatever  is  really  noble." 

"  Miss  Wordsworth,"  said  Waring,  "  is  a  very  uncom 
mon  person.  You,  of  course,  see  her  beauty,  and  are  im 
pressed  with  her  extraordinary  intellectual  qualities  ;  her 
training  has  been  such  as  to  give  her  a  range  of  thought 


DE    VANE.  61 

and  of  sentiment  quite  out  of  the  line  which  you  have 
been  accustomed  to  observe.     Her  parents,  as  you  already 
know,  are  both  dead,  her  mother  surviving  her  husband 
but  a  short  time.     When  she  felt  the  approach  of  death — 
still  conscious  and  resolute — she  called  for  writing  mate 
rials,  and  addressed  a  letter  to  her  child.     She  impressed 
on  her  young  mind,  even  then — and  the  impression  deep 
ened  with  every  year  as  she  grew,  and  read,  and  re-read 
the  dying  message — the  importance  of  living  for  others. 
And  she  enjoined  it  upon  her  not  to  squander  the  ample 
fortune  which  she  would  inherit  upon  false  objects,  but  to 
devote  much  of  it  to  the  training  of  orphan  little  girls, 
without   father   or  mother,  like    herself,   in   the  way  to 
heaven.     That  as  her  father  had  died  young,  giving  his 
life  a  sacrifice  for  those  whom  Christ  had  bought  with  his 
own  blood ;  and  as  she,  her  mother,  was  about  to  follow  him 
to  a  world  of  bliss,  it  was  her  duty  to  carry  out  their  wish 
es  in  consecrating  herself  in  some  good  measure  while  yet 
young,  to  active  ministrations,  for  the  good  of  those  who, 
like  herself  in  orphanage,  were  not  like  her   in  fortune. 
She   has  faithfully  followed   the  counsels   of  her   saintly 
mother.     She  will  not  consent  yet  to  commit  to  others  the 
entire  care  of  these  young  beings ;  and  while  she  has  es 
tablished  this  home,  which  you  have  seen  to-day,  out  of 
her  abounding  means,  and  employed  a  trustworthy  person, 
Mrs.  Green,  to  take  charge  of  them,  she  will  teach  them 
herself.     Otherwise  she  would  be  but  giving  of  her  abund 
ance,  but  it  would  be  no  consecration  of  herself." 

"It  is  glorious,"  exclaimed  De  Vane.  "I  begin  to  com 
prehend  how  the  woman  that  brought  the  alabaster  box 
of  precious  ointment  to  anoint  the  head  of  the  Saviour, 
not  content  with  that  costly  sacrifice,  poured  the  richer 
tribute  of  her  tears  upon  his  feet,  and  wiped  them  with 
the  hairs  of  her  head." 

Waring  turned  upon  him  a  face  beaming  with  satisfac 
tion,  but  said  not  a  word. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


"THE  vague  but  manly  wish  to  tread  the  maze 
Of  life,  to  noble  ends." 

AUBREY  DE  VERB. 


NOVEMBER  came ;  the  closing  examination  of  the  Senior 
Class  was  very  near,  and  De  Yane  plunged  into  his  studies 
deeper  than  ever.  He  would  not  indulge  himself  in  a  sin 
gle  visit  to  Esther.  He  loved,  and  loved  profoundly,  but 
ambition  swayed  him  in  these  closing  weeks  of  his  college 
career,  and  love  stood  by,  waiting  for  the  day  of  his  deliv 
erance. 

The  day  at  length  came.  The  examination  was  passed, 
and  De  Vane  was  awarded  a  diploma,  and  an  honor ;  not 
so  high  an  honor  as  he  had  hoped  for.  But  he  felt  that 
his  course  had  been  irregular ;  that  he  had  given  to  some 
branches  of  study  greater  attention  than  he  had  bestowed 
on  others,  and  that  there  were  those  in  the  class  who, 
taking  the  whole  course,  excelled  him.  In  some  of  his 
studies  he  was  peerless ;  and  as  these  were  his  favorite 
studies,  he  was  satisfied.  Then,  too,  he  had  the  Valedic 
tory  of  his  Society  to  deliver,  and  this  soothed  him — 
cheered  him  indeed — for  it  was  a  great  distinction,  being 
conferred  by  the  students  themselves,  who  were  his  peers. 
The  highest  honor  was  given  to  Waring,  and  at  this  De 
Vane  rejoiced.  Congratulating  his  friend,  De  Vane 
sought  Professor  Niles,  and  urged  him  to  prevail  on  the 
Faculty  to  excuse  him  from  preparing  an  orution  for  Com- 

(52) 


DE  YANE.  53 

mencement-day,  as  he  had  to  appear  in  the  evening  to  de 
liver  his  Valedictory.  His  request  was  granted. 

Relieved  now  from  the  pressure  of  College  duties,  the 
whole  tide  of  his  nature  flowed  with  impetuous  current 
toward  Esther. 

He  sat  down  and  wrote  to  Mrs.  De  Yane,  giving  her  a 
full  account  of  his  course  as  a  student,  and  requesting  his 
aunt  to  obtain  his  father's  consent  for  him  to  remain  where 
he  was,  that  he  might  enter  the  office  of  Mr.  Clarendon, 
and  study  the  law.  In  his  letter  he  could  not  omit  some 
mention  of  Esther,  and  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Springfield,  describ 
ing  them  in  language  sufficiently  glowing  to  interest  his 
aunt,  while  he  made  no  revelation  of  his  love.  He  wrote 
also  to  his  father,  limiting  himself  to  an  expression  of  his 
wish  to  read  law  in  the  office  of  Mr.  Clarendon,  and  de 
scribing  him  as  a  Virginian,  a  rising  man,  a  brilliant  or 
ator,  and  an  accomplished  gentleman. 

The  Legislature  assembled ;  eminent  men  from  all  parts 
of  the  State  coming  to  the  capital,  to  sojourn  during  the 
brief  but  brilliant  session,  which  did  not  usually  transcend 
four  weeks. 

The  Governor  was  elected — a  gentleman  of  wealth  and 
great  worth,  residing  at  the  capital — and  a  day  was  fixed 
for  his  inauguration.  Waring  was  too  much  engrossed  in 
preparing  his  speech  for  Commencement  to  attend,  inter 
esting  as  the  event  always  was,  and  much  as  he  respected 
the  Governor-elect ;  so  that  De  Vane  went  to  the  State- 
House  alone.  It  was  thronged ;  floor  and  galleries  were 
densely  packed.  De  Vane  made  his  way  into^the  lobby  of 
the  Representative  Hall,  and  was  standing  near  the  door, 
when  Mr.  Clarendon  saw  him,  and  bowed  to  him.  He  was 
standing  at  the  end  of  a  sofa,  upon  which  three  ladies  were 
seated,  and  De  Vane  recognized  Esther  as  one  of  them. 
He  observed  Mr.  Clarendon  speak  to  her ;  she  turned  her 
face,  saw  De  Vane,  and  bowed.  He  felt  the  blood  rush 


64:  DE  VANE. 

through  his  veins  wildly,  and  his  frame  almost  shook  with 
emotion.  They  had  not  met  since  the  hour  they  had 
passed  in  her  garden;  and  he  did  not,  until  this  moment, 
when  he  saw  her  once  more,  comprehend  her  absolute 
power  over  him  when  he  was  in  her  presence.  It  was  as 
if  he  approached  the  shrine  of  some  celestial  being,  who 
spread  around  the  sacred  spot  an  enchantment  too  potent 
to  be  resisted.  Yielding  to  an  impulse  which  he  could  not 
resist,  he  made  his  way  through  the  crowded  lobby  to  the 
sofa  where  she  was  seated.  Mr.  Clarendon  extended  his 
hand  to  him,  in  welcome. 

"  Gallantly  done,  sir,"  said  he.  "  I  applaud  your  spirit, 
and  think  you  have  won  your  spurs." 

De  Vane  smiled,  and  bowing  very  low  to  Esther,  said : 

"  It  has  been  so  long,  Miss  Wordsworth,  since  I  met  you, 
that  I  could  not  deny  myself  the  pleasure  of  coming  to 
you,  even  through  such  obstructions." 

"  I  am  very  much  pleased  to  see  you,  Mr.  De  Vane," 
she  replied,  raising  her  sincere,  soul-lit  eyes,  while  a  glow 
overspread  her  face.  "  You  have  been  so  engrossed  with 
your  studies,  I  learn,  that  you  denied  us  the  gratification 
of  seeing  you.  So  Mr.  Waring  informed  us." 

"  Ah !  Waring  is  a  generous  friend,  and  he  has  been 
studying  to  some  purpose,"  he  said;  "he  bears  away  the 
great  prize." 

"  Yes ;  but  he  says  that  he  is  not  sure  you  were  not  en 
titled  to  it ;  he  speaks  of  you  with  enthusiasm." 

"  I  suspect,  Mr.  De  Vane,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  that 
you  resemble  me  somewhat — if  you  will  allow  me  to  say 
so.  You  yielded  to  your  tastes,  and  pursued  such  studies 
with  ardor  as  gratified  them." 

"  You  are  quite  right,  sir ;  nor  do  I  regret  it.  Waring's 
thorough  scholarship,  however,  fairly  entitled  him  to  the 
distinction  which  he  obtained,  against  all  possible  compe 
tition." 


DE   VANE.  55 

"  My  friend,  Professor  Niles,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  was 
strongly  disposed  to  place  you  at  the  head  of  the  class,  as 
I  happen  to  know." 

The  two  ladies  seated  by  Esther  listened  eagerly  to  the 
conversation.  One  of  them  was  Mrs.  Clarendon,  a  splen 
did  woman,  of  marvelous  beauty.  Her  hair  was  very  dark 
chestnut,  and  her  eyes  so  deeply  blue,  that  they  might  in 
shadow  be  mistaken  for  black.  Above  the  medium  height, 
her  person  was  disposed  to  fullness,  and  yet  her  form  was 
rounded  and  graceful.  The  traces  of  declining  health  could 
be  seen  in  her  fine  face,  slightly  touched  with  sadness. 

The  other  was  the  wife  of  a  Senator  from  the  sea-board. 
She  was  a  blonde ;  her  blue  eyes,  and  light  hair,  which 
floated  about  her  face  in  soft  curls,  gave  her  the  appear 
ance  of  extreme  youth.  She  was  almost  fragile,  and  yet 
animated,  and  very  lovely.  Still  De  Yane  felt  that  Esther 
was  peerless,  and  he  yielded  her  from  the  depths  of  his 
soul,  a  homage  more  intense  than  that  which  Eastern  idol 
atry  pays  to  its  divinity. 

A  gun  was  heard,  announcing  the  arrival  of  the  Gov 
ernor,  and  the  ladies  started,  as  the  windows  shook  with 
the  reverberation.  A  burst  of  music  followed ;  and  pre 
sently  the  Governor,  with  his  attendants,  entered,  and  the 
Speaker,  in  his  blue  silk  gown,  met  him,  conducted  him 
to  the  platform,  and  the  usual  forms  of  the  inauguration 
followed. 

When  they  were  ended,  De  Yane  accompanied  Esther, 
following  Mr.  Clarendon,  who  escorted  the  two  ladies. 
The  carriage  was  drawn  up  near  the  entrance  to  the 
grounds,  and  the  three  ladies  entered  it  and  drove  away. 

"  Mr.  De  Yane,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  you  must  not 
leave  us.  What  do  you  propose  to  do,  with  yourself?" 

"  It  is  my  wish,  sir,"  said  he,  "  to  remain  here  and  read 
law.  I  have  written  to  Yirginia,  asking  my  father's  per 
mission  to  do  so." 


56  DE  VANE. 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  it,"  replied  Mr.  Clarendon. 
"  Why  not  come  into  my  office  ?" 

"  It  is  just  what  I  propose  to  do,  Mr.  Clarendon,  if  my 
father  should  approve  my  plans." 

"  This  is  the  place  for  you,"  said  the  other,  taking  out 
of  his  pocket  a  very  handsome  snuif-box,  and  offering  the 
fragrant  tobacco  to  De  Yane ;  "  this  is  the  very  place  for 
you.  With  your  tastes,  and,  I  shall  add,  your  talents, 
you  will  find  here  an  ample  field."  De  Vane  bowed. 

"  I  prefer  it  to  Virginia,  taking  all  things  into  the  ac 
count,  and  so  will  you." 

He  fixed  his  eyes  upon  De  Vane's  face,  looked  at  him 
steadily  for  a  minute,  and  then,  lifting  his  hat,  took  leave 
of  the  young  student  with  a  bow  of  stately  grace. 

De  Vane  was  fascinated.  Attentions  from  eminent  men 
are  very  grateful  to  the  young,  the  ardent,  the  ambitious. 
It  is  delightful  to  be  appreciated,  especially  by  great  souls  ; 
and  the  young  student,  full  of  noble  and  generous  qualities 
himself,  yielded  to  the  grand  nature  of  the  man  who  had  just 
turned  away  from  him,  the  tribute  of  boundless  admiration. 

"  Mehercule!  Waring,"  said  he,  rushing  into  his  apart 
ment  upon  reaching  the  College,  "  what  a  magnificent  man 
Clarendon  is  !" 

"The  whole  world  will  soon  acknowledge  that,"  said 
Waring ;  "  but  what  has  happened  to  make  you  so  enthusi 
astic  about  him  just  now  ?" 

De  Vane  gave  his  friend  a  description  of  what  jad  tran 
spired  at  the  capitol — the  inauguration,  his  seeing  Miss 
Wordsworth,  his  presentation  to  the  ladies  who  were  with 
her,  and  his  interview  with  Mr.  Clarendon. 

"  And  after  all  that,  you  feel  it  necessary  to  invoke  the 
aid  of  your  friend  Hercules,  to  help  you  sustain  the  bur 
den  of  accumulating  honors — do  you  ?" 

De  Vane  laughed.  "  Ah  !"  said  he,  "  you  know,  Waring, 
I  never  swear." 


CHAPTER    VII. 


EACH  one  of  us,  perchance,  may  here, 

On  some  blue  morn  hereafter, 
Return  to  view  the1  gaudy  year, 

But  not  with  boyish  laughter: 
We  shall  then  be  wrinkled  men, 

Our  brows  with  silver  laden, 
And  thou  this  glen  may'st  seek  again, 

But  never  more  a  maiden. 

THOMAS  WILLIAM  PARSONS. 


THE  College  chapel  began  early  in  the  day  to  show  signs 
of  a  great  occasion.  Many  seats  were  already  filled.  Car 
riages  dashed  through  the  Campus,  bringing  new-comers, 
and  crowds  of  pedestrians  made  their  way  across  it.  Cer 
tain  reserved  seats  were  guarded  by  a  committee  com 
posed  of  students,  wearing  badges.  The  stage  was  car 
peted  ;  chairs  were  placed  thickly  upon  it,  and  the  Presi 
dent's  black  servant,  Scipio,  (the  students  added  Africanus 
to  his  name,)  bustled  about  with  an  air  as  important  as  if 
the  weight  of  the  whole  establishment  rested  on  his  sable 
shoulders.  The  younger  students  usually  greeted  his 
appearance  with  a  shrill  whistle ;  but  he  was  much  too 
grave  to-day  to  pay  the  least  attention  to  any  such  liber 
ties.  In  the  middle  of  the  Campus,  in  striking  contrast  to 
all  the  surrounding  activity  and  excitement,  Dr.  Hume's 
white  mare,  Blanche,  grazed  peacefully,  enjoying  the  lin 
gering  herbage  which  survived  the  mild  approach  of  win 
ter.  She  was  well  known  to  the  students,  who  sometimes 
exercised  their  skill  shaping  her  mane  and  tail  to  suit  their 
3*  (57) 


58  DE  VANE. 

own  taste,  of  which  the  Doctor  never  complained  and 
Blanche  seemed  unconscious. 

Then  came  the  long  procession  of  official  persons.  It 
had  formed  at  the  State  House,  and  was  now  entering 
the  wide  western  gate  of  the  grounds.  The  Governor 
and  Trustees,  the  Senators,  the  Representatives — all  came, 
the  dignitaries  wearing  their  robes  of  office.  As  they 
entered  the  chapel,  the  whole  audience  rose  to  their  feet. 
The  Governor  and  Trustees  ascended  the  platform  and 
took  their  seats  with  the  Faculty.  The  scene  was  a 
brilliant  one.  Official  persons  of  the  highest  dignity  laid 
aside  their  occupations  to  be  present ;  for  it  was  the  policy 
of  the  State  to  cheer,  by  its  countenance,  as  well  as  foster 
by  its  means,  the  noble  institution,  which  already  was  a 
glory  in  the  midst  of  it,  crowning  its  brow  like  a  diadem 
flashing  with  precious  stones.  Its  graduates,  some  of  them, 
were  even  now  men  of  renown. 

Ladies,  too,  in  their  rich  and  showy  attire,  made  the 
place  radiant ;  and  Mrs.  Springfield  and  Esther  were  seen 
by  De  Yane  about  midway  in  the  chapel,  seated  by  Mrs. 
Clarendon.  Near  them  were  two  ladies,  one  of  them, 
who  seemed  to  be  about  forty  years  of  age,  with  a  com 
plexion  of  extraordinary  whiteness,  and  large,  dark  eyes. 
The  other  was  a  much  younger  person,  scarcely  above 
twenty,  and  her  beauty  was  imperial.  Classical  in  her  whole 
aspect  and  form,  her  dark  eyes  full  of  lambent  fire,  and  her 
rich,  black  hair,  thrown  back  from  the  face,  worn  in  a  style 
quite  unlike  that  of  other  ladies,  she  reminded  De  Yane  of 
Aspasia  in  the  full  glory  of  her  charms.  The  elder  of  the 
two  ladies  was  dressed  in  rich  mourning  costume ;  the 
younger  wore  a  dress  of  black  velvet  trimmed  with  lace, 
and  her  hat,  which  was  singularly  becoming  to  her,  was 
of  the  same  material ;  a  diamond  buckle,  fastening  the  dark 
plume  on  the  hat,  flashed  with  every  movement  of  her 
head.  Seated  by  Waring  on  the  platform,  De  Yane  turned 


DE   VANE.  59 

to  him,  and  called  his  attention  to  the  party  of  ladies,  and 
asked  who  the  persons  were,  seated  on  the  right  of  Mrs. 
Clarendon.  He  replied  that  they  were  unknown  to  him. 

A  burst  of  music  from  the  band  opened  the  programme. 
Then  came  the  orations,  Waring  leading  the  way  with  the 
salutatory  in  Latin,  which  he  uttered  so  as  to  give  full 
effect  to  the  majesty  of  the  language.  After  the  several 
orations  were  ended,  the  President  rose,  and  walked  to  the 
middle  of  the  platform.  He  was  very  short,  with  a  large, 
finely  formed  head  and  intellectual  face  ;  the  expression  was 
that  of  great  benevolence.  His  hair,  now  gray,  had  fallen 
off  from  the  front  of  the  head,  leaving  the  temples  bare,  and 
the  large  zigzag  veins  on  either  side  of  the  forehead  were 
visible,  through  which  the  blood  coursed  like  lightning. 
His  waddling  gait,  short  stature,  and  bent  form,  together 
with  his  strikingly  intellectual  head  and  face,  presented  a 
grotesque  blending  of  different  elements,  and  suggested 
tEe  grave  and  ludicrous.  The  graduating  class  formed 
about  him.  He  delivered  a  brief  address  to  them,  marked 
with  practical  sense  and  tinged  with  politics,  handed  to 
each  his  diploma ;  and  then,  the  band  playing  a  national 
air,  the  audience  dispersed. 

Mrs.  Springfield  and  Esther  waited  to  speak  with  War 
ing,  who,  with  De  Yane  by  his  side,  advanced  to  the 
ladies,  and  received  their  warm  congratulations. 

"  Mr.  Springfield,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield,  "  was  called  to 
the  country  yesterday,  and  expected  to  be  here  this  morn 
ing.  I  know  how  deeply  he  will  regret  the  loss  of  your 
oration  to-day.  And,  Mr.  De  Vane,  we  shall  all  come  to 
hear  you  this  evening."  He  bowed  very  low. 

"  Mr.  De  Yane  well  knows,"  said  Esther,  "  the  interest 
which  my  uncle  feels  in  him,  and  he  will  certainly  join  us." 

"  To  be  appreciated  by  Mr.  Springfield,"  he  replied,  is 
very  flattering  to  me ;  if  I  could  only  approach  his  stand 
ard,  I  should  be  most  fortunate." 


60  DE  VANE. 

The  ladies  were  evidently  gratified  at  this  tribute  to 
one  so  much  admired  and  beloved  by  them,  for  their  faces 
beamed  upon  the  young  student. 

The  evening  came.  The  chapel  was  again  filled  to  its 
utmost  capacity^,  and  brilliantly  lighted.  The  students 
had  evidently  exerted  themselves  to  make  the  evening 
eclipse  the  splendor  of  the  morning. 

Again  Mrs.  Springfield  and  Esther  were  present,  at 
tended  by  Mr.  Springfield  and  Waring,  and  seated  nearer 
to  the  stage  than  in  the  morning.  There,  too,  was  Mr. 
Clarendon,  this  time  in  attendance  on  the  ladies  who  had 
attracted  De  Vane's  attention  in  the  morning. 

The  Faculty  were  out  in  force,  Professor  Niles  seated 
nearest  the  spot  where  his  young  friend  was  to  stand,  and 
his  young,  beautiful  wife,  full  of  animation,  sat  by  his  side. 

The  orator  was  announced.  He  came  forward  full  of 
dignity  and  grace,  blending  the  self-possession  of  manhood 
with  the  sensibility  of  extreme  youth.  A  burst  of  ap 
plause  greeted  him,  (he  was  a  great  favorite  in  the  College,) 
and  he  bowed  very  low  in  recognition  of  the  tribute. 
Every  eye  was  fixed  on  him ;  and  Esther  felt  her  heart 
beat  quicker  than  usual.  De  Yane  had  never  breathed  a 
word  of  love  to  her,  but  it  would  have  been  impossible 
not  to  see  the  admiration  which  his  manner  toward  her 
always  revealed  when  in  her  presence.  She  had  not  ana 
lyzed  her  heart ;  she  was  really  unconscious  of  the  depth 
of  the  interest  which  she  felt  in  the  young  student ;  and 
she  was  ready  now  to  chide  herself  for  the  emotion  which 
she  experienced.  She  had  never  loved ;  her  soul  was  as 
fresh  as  Paradise  before  a  cloud  flitted  over  it,  and  from 
those  pure  lips  no  sigh  had  ever  been  breathed  laden  with 
any  earthly  passion.  She  became  very  pale,  and  feared 
that  her  aunt  might  observe  how  deeply  she  was  moved. 

"  Esther,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield,  turning  to  her  as  the 
applause  died  away,  "  this  is  enough  to  spoil  our  young 
Virginian." 


DE   VANE.  61 

She  did  not  reply. 

The  subject  of  De  Vane's  oration  was  Classical  Learn 
ing.  It  was  a  magnificent  argument  in  defence  of  a 
generous  education.  The  enriching  influence  of  an  ac 
quaintance  with  the  works  of  antiquity  was  exhibited; 
and  Milton's  example  and  authority  were  adduced  in  sup 
port  of  the  proposition,  that  such  learning  best  fitted  a 
man  for  a  high  performance  of  the  great  tasks  of  life.  The 
value  of  common-schools  was  not  underrated ;  but  it  was 
insisted  that  an  exalted  training  of  even  a  few  minds  did 
more  toward  advancing  the  progress  of  our  race,  than 
the  widest  diffusion  of  the  mere  elements  of  knowledge. 
One  illustration  was  received  with  rapturous  applause. 
"The  rising  sun,"  said  the  orator,  "first  gilds  the 
summit  of  the  Alps,  and  afterward  pours  his  splendors 
upon  the  mountain  slopes,  until,  reaching  the  highest 
heavens,  he  bathes  the  valleys  with  his  broad  and  fertil 
izing  beams.  So,  in  the  world  of  letters,  the  leading  minds 
catch  the  first  glories  of  humanizing  light,  and  reflect 
them  from  their  elevated  stand-points  upon  the  surround 
ing  world." 

The  leave-taking,  in  the  closing  part  of  the  speech,  was 
in  fine  taste,  characterized  by  manliness,  and  yet  imbued 
with  sensibility.  Deafening  applause  greeted  De  Vane 
as  he  took  his  seat ;  and  Professor  Niles,  rising,  was  the 
first  to  grasp  his  hand.  The  other  members  of  the  Faculty 
offered  their  congratulations,  and  the  leading  students 
rushed  forward  eagerly,  to  pay  their  enthusiastic  tribute 
to  their  splendid  representative.  It  was  a  complete  suc 
cess — a  triumph. 

"  Mr.  Waring,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  your  young  friend 
must  be  looked  after.  Such  a  mind  must  be  made  ac 
quainted  with  something  higher  than  classical  learning ; 
he  must  be  brought  under  the  influence  of  that  power  in 
voked  by  Milton,  whom  he  seems  so  much  to  admire : 


62  DE   VANE. 

'  And  chiefly  thou,  0  spirit !  that  dost  prefer 
Before  all  temples  the  upright  heart  and  pure, 
Instruct  me.' 

He  will  then  learn  how  much  sublimer  are  inspired 
themes  than  even  the  most  heroic  of  heathen  exploits ; 
for  his  own  great  poet  is  described  by  Barrow  as  singing 
in  worthy  lines — the  war  in  heaven : 

'  Stat  dubius  cui  se  parti  concedat  Olympus, 
Et  metuit  pugnce  ne  superesse  suce, 
At  simul  in  ccelis  Messice  insignia  fulgent, 
Et  currus  animes,  armaque  digna  Deo.'1  " 

"  Oh  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Springfield,  "it  is  so  fine." 

Esther  said  not  a  word ;  but  the  color  had  returned  to 
her  face ;  for  it  now  glowed — she  was  radiant. 

"Yes,"  said  Waring,  "I  have  long  known  what  De 
Yane  can  do.  His  future  involves  a  degree  of  responsi 
bility  nothing  short  of  fearful." 

"  Mr.  Clarendon  was  seen  to  quit  the  ladies  under  his 
charge,  for  a  moment ;  and  advancing  toward  De  Yane, 
who  had  now  descended  from  the  stage,  and  was  coming 
to  where  Mr.  Springfield  and  his  party  stood,  he  grasped 
the  young  student's  hand  in  both  his,  and  said : 

"I  thank  you,  sir!  Every  man  who  loves  the  classics 
is  indebted  to  you." 

De  Yane  bowed  with  quiet  dignity,  but  did  not  attempt 
to  reply.  His  eyes  sought  Esther.  She  had  seen  and 
heard  all ;  and  as  he  reached  the  group  where  she  stood, 
she  greeted  him  with  an  uncontrollable  flash  of  joyous 
sympathy,  which  sent  its  radiance  into  the  depths  of  the 
young  student's  soul,  with  as  bright  a  glory  as  a  cloudless 
summer  morning  sheds  over  a  landscape. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"  FORGIVE  me,  if  I  can  not  turn  away 
From  those  sweet  eyes  that  are  my  earthly  heaven; 
For  they  are  guiding  stars,  benignly  given 
To  tempt  my  footsteps  to  the  upward  way ; 
And  if  I  dwell  too  fondly  in  thy  sight, 
I  live  and  love  in  God's  peculiar  light." 

COLERIDGE  :  Michael  Angela. 

DE  VANE'S  College  course  was  now  ended,  and  the  great 
world  opened  before  him.  There  comes  in  life  but  one 
such  season.  The  spring,  with  its  all-vivifying  fervor, 
comes  upon  nature  with  each  recurring  year ;  but  it  warms 
the  human  heart  once,  never  to  revisit  it.  When  its  pro 
mise  deepens  into  the  summer  verdure,  we  look  for  the 
matured  fruits,  and  then  the  autumnal  glories,  closing 
with  the  long,  long  winter. 

Letters  came  to  De  Vane  from  home.  His  father  ap 
proved  his  plans,  and  expressed  his  satisfaction  at  his 
course.  Mr.  Clarendon's  family  were  known  to  him ;  but 
he  had  never  met  that  gentleman — his  reputation  he  was 
acquainted  with— and  General  De  Vane  was  gratified  that 
his  son  was  to  enjoy  the  advantages,  which  an  intimate 
association  with  such  a  man  was  sure  to  yield.  He  gave 
him  his  views,  at  some  length,  of  public  affairs,  and  looked 
forward  to  a  complete  triumph  throughout  the  country,  of 
his  party,  at  the  approaching  election  for  the  Presidency. 
"  You  will,  of  course,  have  read,"  he  continued,  "  the  late 
speech  of  Mr.  Randolph.  He  denounces  the  Administration 
in  just  terms,  and  characterizes  its  abuses  in  language  so 

(63} 


64:  DE   VANE. 

severe,  that  it  is  thought  the  leading  Cabinet  Minister 
will  call  him  out.  I  should  regret  this,  for  I  admire  the 
splendid  abilities  of  that  gentleman,  nor  do  I  give  credence 
for  a  moment  to  the  injurious  suggestions  which  are  made 
as  to  the  terms  of  his  obtaining  office.  His  public  serv 
ices  and  his  statesmanship  entitled  him  to  the  position 
preeminently ;  and  I  know  him  too  well  to  believe  that 
he  would  sully  his  honor  by  a  corrupt,  or  even  humiliating 
agreement,  in  regard  to  any  office.  But  I  do  agree  with 
the  strong  classical  figure  which  Mr.  Randolph  employs 
to  describe  the  state  of  affairs  at  Washington.  The  Augean 
stable  needs  cleansing,  and  I  think  we  have  the  Hercules 
who  will  accomplish  the  task." 

The  letter  from  his  aunt  was  very  long.  It  gave  him 
the  details  of  home  affairs,  in  which  he  felt  a  deep  interest, 
and  which  Mrs.  De  Vane  recounted  with  charming  fidelity. 
His  home  rose  before  him:  his  books,  his  servants,  his 
horses — all  came  to  view  vividly ;  and  he  breathed  once 
more  the  native  mountain  air,  which  had  exhilarated  his 
early  youth.  Passing  to  other  matters,  she  wrote : 

"  I  observe,  my  dear  George,  that  you  have  found  new 
friends  lately,  and  found  them,  too,  where  I  should  hardly 
have  looked  for  them — in  the  family  of  a  Methodist  minis 
ter.  It  seems  he  is  not  a  clergyman,  but  one  of  Mr.  Wes 
ley's  lay  preachers.  Do  not  understand  me  to  mean  that 
I  disapprove  you  seeing  such  people ;  but  I  wish  to  guard 
you  against  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  them,  or  an 
intercourse  so  frequent  as  to  bring  you  under  their  in 
fluence.  I  do  not  doubt  that  very  good  people  are  found 
among  the  Methodists.  I  have  known  such  myself,  and 
some  of  their  preachers  are  men  of  great  oratorical 
power.  But  a  few  days  since  I  attended  the  chapel  in  our 
neighborhood,  and  heard  Bishop  McKendree,  really  a 
venerable  man,  and  a  most  eloquent  preacher.  I  was 
charmed  with  him,  and  under  his  sermon  my  tears  foil 


DE  VANE.  65 

like  rain.  He  was  stopping  for  two  or  three  days  with  our 
friends,  the  Hamiltons,  who  are  Methodists,  you  know, 
and  as  refined  and  cultivated  as  any  persons  of  my  ac 
quaintance  ;  but  they  are  exceptions,  you  understand,  to  a 
rule  so  general,  that  I  should  hardly  expect  to  find  another 
family  like  them.  Your  description  of  Miss  Wordsworth, 
I  confess,  interests  me.  Such  beauty,  such  culture,  such 
refinement,  and  such  a  self-sacrificing  spirit,  one  rarely 
meets  in  any  circle.  But,  dear  George,  have  you  not  a 
little  eleve  la  vertu  de  votre  sainte  ?  According  to  your  de 
scription,  she  is  quite  a  Saint  Cecilia ;  and  Malibran  can  not 
rival  her.  Prenez  garde  !  My  George,  the  illusion  which 
love  sheds  around  youth  and  beauty  often  misleads  us. 

"  The  Guilfords  have  just  returned  from  Europe.  Clara 
is  wonderfully  improved ;  and  she  remembers  you  vividly. 
I  did  not  venture  to  inform  her  of  your  enthusiastic  admir 
ation  of  the  young  Methodist  •  it  would  have  been  cruel. 

"  Have  you  read  the  last  book  of  Sir  Walter  Scott's, 
which  has  just  been  published,  The  Fair  Maid  of  Perth  ? 
Remember  that  '  eagles  must  not  pair  with  linnets.'  Do 
not  neglect  your  French.  I  like  your  sketch  of  the  river- 
bank,  the  ferry-boats,  and  the  soft  landscape.  What  is 
Mr.  Waring  to  do  with  himself — your  first-honor  man  ? 
He  ought  to  shine.  God  bless  you,  my  dear  George. 

"  Yours,  with  true  affection,  HESTER  DE  VAXE. 

"  P.  S. — The  Guilfords  have  this  moment  called.  I  forgot 
to  say  that  Mr.  Randolph  spent  yesterday  with  us,  and 
asked  after  you  with  interest.  He  is  charmed  with  your 
course  as  a  student,  and  says  that  he  knew  you  promised 
well ;  for  you  learned,  when  young,  the  three  great  accom 
plishments — Ho  ride,  to  shoot,  and  to  speak  the  truth.' 

«  H.  DE  V." 

The  lights  and  shadows  that  flitted  over  De  Vane's  face 
as  he  read  his  aunt's  letter  were  like  those  which  we  see 


66  DE  VANE. 

on  a  summer  landscape,  when  light  clouds  fly  through  the 
sky.  He  loved  Mrs.  De  Vane  dearly,  and  respected  her 
judgment  and  taste,  and  the  light  way  in  which  she  spoke 
of  Esther  and  her  friends  disturbed  him.  The  strong  feeling 
of  caste,  which  was  deep  in  his  nature,  was  roused,  and  he 
felt  his  patrician  tastes  powerfully  revived  by  the  descrip 
tion  of  the  Guilfords,  a  family  of  great  wealth  and  of  high 
ancestral  pride.  Their  estate  was  the  largest  in  Virginia, 
and  the  lands  had  descended  from  father  to  son -through 
every  generation  since  John  Guilford — a  younger  brother 
of  an  English  nobleman — first  settled  in  the  country. 
Clara  he  well  remembered  as  a  brilliant  and  attractive 
girl,  dashing  fearlessly  on  her  spirited  horse  over  the 
mountain-roads ;  for  he  had  often  accompanied  her,  when 
she  had  tasked  his  horsemanship  in  leaping  ravines,  and 
sometimes  rail  fences.  She  had  now  been  in  England  on  a 
visit  to  her  relatives,  for  the  families  still  kept  up  a  fre 
quent  intercourse.  How  resplendent  she  must  be,  how 
superbly  she  would  grace  the  mansion  of  a  gentleman — 
sympathizing  with  all  his  tastes,  and  adorning  his  whole 
career  ! 

He  had  walked  to  the  public  garden  to  read  his  letters, 
and  he  now  paced  through  the  broad  walks,  plunged  in 
thoughts  which  made  him  insensible  to  every  thing  about 
him.  Turning  into  one  of  the  less  frequented  walks,  he 
found  little  Mary  Sinclair,  seated  on  one  of  the  benches, 
with  a  book  in  her  hand,  and  the  beautiful  child  whom  De 
Vane  remembered  that  he  had  seen  seated  at  the  feet  of 
Esther  upon  his  first  visit  to  her  school.  They  were  en 
joying  the  warm  sunshine  which,  even  on  a  December 
day,  bathed  the  spot  where  they  sat  with  the  temperature 
of  May  in  less  favored  climes.  Mary  knew  him  instantly, 
and  her  face  beamed  with  pleasure  as  he  approached. 
Rising  from  her  seat,  she  gave  him  her  hand  with  the 
sweet  confidence  of  innocent  childhood,  unheeding  aristo- 


DE   VANE.  67 

cratic  distinctions  or  the  world's  cold  rules.  De  Yane  was 
touched,  and  stooping  down,  he  kissed  the  bright  little 
cheek  before  him.  She  had  come  at  this  moment  when  the 
great  world  of  state  and  fashion  was  spreading  its  attrac 
tions  before  the  eyes  of  De  Vane  and  shaking  its  gleaming 
gifts  in  his  view,  like  a  bird  from  some  dear  retreat  which 
he  knew  and  loved,  to  make  its  mute  appeal  to  his  better 
nature.  Who  has  not,  by  a  sight  or  a  sound,  been  recalled 
from  the  dreams  of  ambition  or  the  schemes  of  worldliness  ? 
The  tones  of  music  recall  our  fresh  youth,  our  early  love, 
our  dear  loyal  friends  long  since  parted  and  gone,  and  a 
glance  of  loving  eyes  melts  in  an  instant  the  frost-work 
which  had  been  forming  about  our  hearts.  Let  the  Swit- 
zer  wander  where  he  may,  the  Ranz  des  Vetches  brings  to 
his  view  the  loved  valleys  of  his  childhood,  and  nature  as 
serting  her  supremacy,  he  gives  the  tribute  of  his  tears  to 
the  home  of  his  happiest  and  most  innocent  hours. 

"  So  you  are  out  to-day,  Mary,"  said  De  Yane.  "  Is  it  a 
holiday  ?" 

"  No,  sir,"  replied  the  little  girl ;  "  Miss  Esther  sent  me 
with  Susan  to  the  book-store  to  get  a  book  which  she  had 
promised  her,  and  we  were  just  returning.  We  stopped 
here  to  rest  a  little  while,  as  Susan  can  not  walk  so  fast  as 
I  do,  without  becoming  tired." 

"  And  where  is  Miss  Wordsworth  ?" 

"  At  the  cottage,"  she  replied.  "  Mrs.  Green  is  not  very 
well  to-day,  and  Miss  Esther  would  not  leave  her  till  her 
headache  got  better.  And,"  she  added,  "  we  must  now  go 
on,  for  she  will  be  uneasy  if  we  stay  out  too  long." 

"  Well,"  said  De  Yane,  "  I  will  go  with  you."  And 
taking  the  hand  of  little  Susan,  he  walked  by  the  side  of 
the  child.  A  few  minutes'  walk  brought  them  to  Esther's 
inclosure,  and  opening  the  gate,  De  Yane  walked  with  the 
children  to  the  house. 

Mary  Sinclair  darted  forward,  threw  open  the  door,  and 


68 


DE  VANE. 


announced  the  approach  of  Mr.  De  Yane.  Esther  sprang 
to  her  feet  and  came  forward,  "  blushing  like  the  morn," 
and  saw  De  Yane  leading  little  Susan,  whose  steps  could 
not  keep  up  with  Mary  Sinclair's,  and  she  felt  that  never 
had  she  seen  him  when  he  appeared  to  such  advantage — not 
in  the  hour  of  his  triumph  before  the  assembled  College, 
nor  when  walking  amidst  his  peers,  the  object  of  universal 
admiration.  A  true  man  never  does  attract  the  higher 
qualities  of  a  woman  of  noble  nature  so  powerfully  as 
when  he  descends  from  the  sterner  ways  of  life  to  use  his 
strength  in  succoring  or  guiding  or  protecting  the  weak  ; 
and  the  picture  which  Esther  saw  as  De  Yane  approached, 
tenderly  helping  the  little  child  whom  he  held  by  the 
hand  to  walk  as  briskly  as  she  desired,  was  never  effaced 
from  her  heart.  She  smiled  brightly,  and  running  to  meet 
them,  her  long  fair  hair  catching  the  sunbeams  as  they 
fell,  and  encircling  her  like  a  glory,  she  exclaimed : 

"  Ah  !  Mr.  De  Yane,  this  is  very  good  ;  you  are  achiev 
ing  your  highest  triumph  now,  for  you  are  guiding  heed 
less  little  feet  in  the  right  path — the  path  that  leads  home 
ward."  Tears  were  in  her  eyes — those  glorious  eyes,  full 
of  quenchless  tenderness,  and  as  De  Yane  saw  her  stand 
ing  thus  for  a  moment  as  she  reached  the  spot  where  he 
stood,  he  felt  that  in  her  surpassing  beauty  and  goodness 
she  transcended  even  the  visions  which  his  imagination 
sometimes  painted. 

He  entered  the  house  with  Esther,  and  found  the  little 
girls,  the  objects  of  her  care,  seated  at  their  desks,  neat 
and  light  desks,  each  one  having  exclusive  jurisdiction 
over  her  own,  and  rivaling  each  other  in  the  tidiness  with 
which  they  were  kept.  The  whole  aspect  of  the  place  was 
cheerful.  A  small  organ  stood  on  one  side  of  the  room, 
used  at  the  morning  and  evening  devotions,  in  which  the 
children  took  part,  singing  by  note,  for  Esther  made  music 
a  part  of  her  system.  Engravings — landscapes  and  cattle 


DE      ANE.  69 


pieces  —  adorned  the  "walls,  and  a  light  etagtre  held  a  collec 
tion  of  entertaining  books,  selected  by  Esther  with  care. 

"  Miss  Wordsworth,"  said  De  Yane,  "  I  begin  to  com 
prehend  how  you  are  able  to  lead  this  life.  You  have 
succeeded  in  blending  the  graceful  with  the  good  and  use 
ful  in  such  a  way  that,  an  angel,  straying  from  his  native 
home,  might  pass  the  days  here  cheerfully." 

Esther  laughed  heartily,  and  said  :  "  Your  tribute  to  my 
little  cottage,  Mr.  De  Yane,  is  so  beautiful  that  I  must  ask 
you  sometimes  to  visit  it.  Possibly,  if  you  suffer  from 
ennui,  you  may  find  relief  here  in  talking  to  these  little 
girls,  and  telling  them  of  the  world  of  knowledge  they 
have  yet  to  explore." 

"  Much  better  would  it  be  for  me,"  he  replied,  half  gayly, 
half  tenderly,  "  to  sit  at  your  feet  and  learn." 

"  You  do  me  too  much  honor,"  said  Esther,  blushing. 
"  Would  you  wish  to  see  what  your  sable  friend  Jacob 
has  been  doing  in  my  grounds  within  a  few  weeks  ?  He  is 
an  extravagant  admirer  of  you,  and  while  I  do  not  mean 
to  detract  in  the  least  from  your  merits,  I  suspect  that  you 
owe  something  of  his  good  opinion  to  your  nativity.  He 
thinks  that  every  thing  good  and  great  must  have  some 
connection  with  Yirginia.  My  grandfather  was  from  that 
State,  and  therefore  Jacob  extends  to  me  his  good  opinion, 
supposing  that  I  possess  inherited  virtues." 

De  Yane  had  never  known  Esther  so  gay.  Excusing 
herself  for  a  moment,  she  went  out  of  the  room,  and  pres 
ently  returned  with  her  hat  and  shawl,  accompanied  by 
Mrs.  Green,  who  had  recovered  from  the  morning's  head 
ache,  and  who  greeted  De  Yane  deferentially. 

"Mrs.  Green,"  said.  Esther,  "I  shall  not  return  before 
to-morrow  morning.  Good-by." 

The  little  girls  rose,  and  stood  until  Esther  quitted  the 
room.  Turning  into  a  walk  which  De  Yane  had  not  yet 
explored,  she  conducted  him  to  a  part  of  the  garden 


70  DE  JfANE. 

where  the  highest  skill  had  been  bestowed.  Rare  plants 
stood  in  tropical  glory,  sheltered  by  shrubbery,  which 
protected  without  overshadowing  them  ;  the  brilliant 
pomegranate  displayed  its  beauties,  and  the  luxuriant 
Cape  jessamine  shed  its  fragrance,  safe  from  frosts;  roses 
grew  in  profusion;  birds,  lingering  where  the  reign  of 
Avinter  seemed  unknown,  made  the  air  vocal. 

"  Miss  Wordsworth,"  said  De  Yane,  "  has  your  place  yet 
been  named  ?" 

"  Oh  !  no,"  she  replied ;  "  it  is  too  simple  for  such  an  am 
bitious  distinction  as  a  name.  Parks  and  country-seats 
must  aspire  to  such  an  honor." 

"  I  will  name  it,  if  you  will  permit  me.     Shall  I  ?" 

Esther  bowed. 

"  Let  it  be  called  *  LEASOWES,'  then — the  name  of  Shen- 
stone's  seat." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  De  Vane,  for  your  appreciation  of  my 
little  seat." 

And  from  that  day  it  always  bore  the  name  of  LEA 
SOWES. 

"  I  should  have  called  it  Paradise,"  said  De  Vane,  "  but 
for  the  temptation,  and  the  sin,  and  the  expulsion,  which 
are  ever  associated  in  my  mind  with  the  Eastern  garden." 

Esther  looked  at  him  earnestly.  A  shade  of  sadness 
rested  for  a  moment  on  his  features,  and  he  added : 

"  Is  it  not  too  sad  that  since  that  hour  of  primeval  bliss 
the  world  offers  no  retreat  where  the  circling  seasons  may 
be  passed,  unconscious  of  the  doom  that  awaits  us — the 
inevitable  grave  ?" 

"  But,"  said  she,  "  there  is  a  paradise  where  no  shade 
of  sorrow  can  come,  where  every  joy  is  immortal,  and 
where  we  need  fear  neither  sin,  nor  temptation,  nor  expul 
sion." 

She  spoke  with  trembling  earnestness,  and  they  walked 
Bide  by  side  silently. 


DE   YAXE.  71 

"But,  Miss  Wordsworth,"  at  length  said  De  Vane, 
"  what  is  to  be  done  to  make  this  world  a  happy  seat  ? 
It  is  so  conventional,  so  imperious  in  its  exactions,  so 
heartless  in  its  estimate  of  the  good  and  the  beautiful,  that 
I  sometimes  wish  for  some  happy  valley,  like  that  which 
shut  in  the  Abyssinian  Prince.  The  shrine  of  the  world 
is  a  cruel  one,  more  so  than  that  of  the  Mexican  Indians, 
who  tore  the  palpitating  heart  from  the  living  breast,  and 
offered  it  to  their  god  as  a  sacrifice :  its  throbs  soon  ceased 
upon  the  broad  rock  where  it  was  placed ;  but  society 
leaves  the  heart  still  to  throb  on,  in  the  long  course  of 
lapsing  years,  and  yet  tortures  the  victim  by  resisting 
every  true  impulse  and  every  natural  emotion.  In  its 
dread  imperiousness,  it  listens  neither  to  the  appeals  of 
youth  nor  the  voice  of  nature.  The  Greeks  would  have 
sacrificed  Iphigenia,  in  her  innocence  and  beauty,  regard 
less  of  her  tears  and  entreaties,  had  not  the  relenting  god 
dess  at  whose  shrine  she  stood,  rescued  and  saved  her ; 
but  it  was  their  love  of  glory  that  impelled  them  to  the . 
deed.  Society  brings  to  its  shrine  victims  that  are  to  be 
sacrificed  to  the  advancement  of  pride  and  selfishness." 

He  spoke  with  bitterness, 'and  Esther,  turning  a  quick 
glance  upon  his  face,  saw  that  it  was  very  stern.  She  did 
not  comprehend  him.  She  saw  that  he  was  in  some  extra 
ordinary  mood,  that  he  was  unhappy ;  but  she  could  not 
read  the  mysterious  depth  of  the  shadow  which  had  dark 
ened  his  young  and  bright  spirit.  She  did  not  know  that 
Mrs.  De  Vane  had  thrown  such  temptations  in  his  way, 
that  she  had  called  upon  his  ardent  nature  to  tear  itself 
away  from  the  sweet  and  purifying  influences  wrhich  had 
of  late  been  attracting  him.  De  Vane  had  been  educated 
to  respect  the  opinions  of  the  world,  to  value  its  conven 
tionalisms,  and  to  seek  its  high  places — not  at  the  sacrifice 
of  truth  or  self-respect ;  but  the  broad  social  distinctions 
of  life  were  made  to  appear  very  important ;  and  his  rola- 


72  DE   VANE. 

lives  would  doubtless  be  as  much  shocked  at  his  taking  for 
a  wife  a  person  not  strictly  of  their  own  caste,  as  the  royal 
household  are  when  a  king  contracts  a  morganatic  mar 
riage.  He  felt  this  ;  and  6*nce  more  in  the  presence  of  Es 
ther,  his  spirits  rose  with  indignation  against  a  system 
which  would  rank  such  a  being  below  its  scale,  merely 
because  she  adopted  a  religious  creed  more  evangelical 
than  it  recognized,  and  cast  in  her  lot  with  a  people  too 
fervent  in  their  faith,  and  too  exact  in  their  lives,  to  please 
the  taste  of  the  votaries  of  fashion,  or  the  circle  which 
thought,  because  it  was  exclusive,  it  was  refined. 

Esther  was  silent,  and  De  Vane  continued : 

"  Is  all  this  life  to  be  sacrificed  to  the  future  ?  Is  the 
glory  of  this  our  earthly  being  to  be  ignored,  that  we 
may  attain  that  Paradise  of  which  you  speak,  and  where 
we  shall  be  happy  and  sinless  ?" 

"  Oh  !  no,  Mr.  De  Vane,"  she  replied.  "  The  highest  glory 
of  this  life  is  in  perfect  harmony  with  that  future  glory 
which  awaits  the  faithful.  But  we  must  not  follow  false 
lights  ;  we  must  not  suffer  our  own  hearts  to  betray  us ; 
we  must  learn  what  true  glory  is." 

"Would  you  condemn  fame,  and  wealth,  and  power, 
Miss  Wordsworth  ?" 

"  I  would  condemn  nothing  really  noble ;  but  I  would 
not  make  the  attainment  of  fame,  or  wealth,  or  power, 
the  guiding-star  of  my  course  through  life.  May  I  remind 
you  of  the  words  of  the  Great  Exemplar  of  humanity, 
'  Seek  ye  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteousness, 
and  all  these  things  shall  be  added  unto  you '  ?" 

There  was  a  thrilling  tenderness  in  the  tones  of  her 
voice,  which  reached  the  depths  of  De  Vane's  soul.  He 
was  deeply  affected,  and  he  did  not  immediately  reply. 
When  he  did  speak,  he  said : 

"  Miss  Wordsworth,  you  will  pardon  me  for  saying  that 
I  feel  as  Adam  must  have  felt  in  the  paradise  which  Mil- 


DE   VANE.  73 

ton  describes,  when  the  angel  discoursed  to  him  of  the 
world  that  lay  before  him  : 

'  The  angel  ended, 
And  in  Adam's  ear  so  charming  left  his  voice.' " 

Esther  blushed  deeply. 

"  Mr.  De  Yane,  when  do  you  return  to  Virginia  ?"  she 
asked,  after  walking  a  few  steps  in  silence. 

"  It  may  be  never,"  he  replied ;  "  I  am  to  enter  Mr. 
Clarendon's  office,  and  I  can  not  read  my  future." 

Her  embarrassment  deepened;  she  trembled.  At  this 
moment  they  reached  the  gate,  and  she  said  : 

"  Mr.  De  Yane,  I  am  about  to  return  to  Mr.  Spring 
field's  ;  I  am  expected  there  at  this  hour.  Having  made  a 
longer  stay  here  than  I  anticipated,  I  must  beg  you  to  ex 
cuse  me." 

"  Let  me  accompany  you,"  said  De  Yane  ;  "  having 
detained  you,  I  must  atone  for  it  by  seeing  you  safely 
home." 

Esther  smiled,  and  they  walked  together  to  the  residence 
of  Mr.  Springfield.  De  Yane  took  leave  of  her,  and 
sought  his  lodgings. 

The  patrician  felt  that  there  was  a  higher  glory  than 
any  that  the  world  could  give,  and  he  felt  too  in  that  hour 
that  he  would  gladly  renounce  all  the  splendor  of  the  realm 
where  society  sat  supreme,  the  Sphinx  of  the  modern 
world,  its  cold  eyes  looking  to  the  future,  and  its  dread 
form  the  impersonation  of  heartlessness  and  power,  to  fol 
low  through  the  world's  vain  mask  such  a  guide  as  had 
just  now  turned  from  him  her  soul-lit  face. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

"  SHE'S  dangerous : 

Her  eyes  have  power  beyond  Thessalian  charma, 
To  draw  the  moon  from  heaven.    For  eloquence, 
The  sea-green  sirens  taught  her  voice  their  flattery  ; 
And,  while  she  speaks,  night  steals  upon  the  day 
Unmarked  of  those  that  hear." 

DRYDEN'S  Cleopatra. 

DE  VANE  had  entered  the  office  of  Mr.  Clarendon,  and 
taken  up  his  course  of  study.  Waring  was  about  to  visit 
his  friends  in  Georgia,  but  it  was  his  intention  to  return, 
and  study  for  the  ministry,  availing  himself  of  the  use  of 
Mr.  Springfield's  extensive  library,  and  enjoying  that  gen 
tleman's  instructions.  Sincerely  attached  to  De  Vane,  he 
wished  to  be  near  him ;  and  it  was  his  hope  that  he  might 
contribute  somewhat  toward  bringing  the  noble  nature 
of  his  friend  under  the  controlling  power  of  evangelical 
religion.  He  was  well  acquainted  with  his  generous  qual 
ities,  and  he  ardently  desired  to  see  his  imperial  intellect 
submit  itself  to  the  teachings  of  Him  who  spake  as  never 
man  spake.  Somewhat  bewildered  with  German  specula 
tions,  and  thoroughly  aristocratic  in  his  tastes,  there  was 
much  to  hinder  his  coming  to  the  feet  of  ONE  who  invited 
the  weary  and  heavy-laden  to  seek  him,  because  he  was 
meek  and  lowly.  Yet  the  love  of  truth  within  him  was 
strong,  his  scorn  of  the  meaner  ways  of  life  was  intense, 
and  he  had  the  courage  to  avow  his  sentiments  in  regard  to 
any  thing.  His  nature  was  too  grand  to  suffer  him  to  sac 
rifice  himself  to  false  gods,  if  they  could  be  stripped  of  the 
illusion  which  invested  them. 

(74) 


DE   VANE.          *  75 

The  two  gentlemen  were  walking  in  the  main  street 
near  the  State  House,  when  a  very  handsome  English 
coach,  drawn  by  a  pair  of  splendid  horses,  dark  bays,  with 
black  manes  and  tails,  two  black  servants  in  livery  seated 
on  the  box,  came  dashing  by.  In  the  carriage  the  two 
ladies  were  seated,  who  had  attracted  De  Vane's  attention 
on  Commencement  day ;  and  as  they  passed  the  gentle 
men,  the  younger  of  the  two  looked  quickly  out,  as  if  she 
desired  to  observe  them.  It  was  but  for  a  moment,  and 
presently  the  carriage  drew  up,  and  the  ladies,  alighting 
from  it,  entered  the  State  House. 

"  Waring,"  said  De  Yane,  "  do  you  know  those  ladies  ?" 

"  I  do  not,"  he  replied ;  "  they  must  be  strangers.  The 
person  who  leaned  from  the  carriage  is  very  beautiful.  I 
never  saw  a  finer  face." 

"  Brilliant,"  said  the  other  ;  "  and  their  equipage  is  per 
fect  in  its  appointments.  Those  are  English  horses." 

"  Indeed  !  I  share  your  taste  for  fine  horses,  De  Yane," 
said  Waring. 

"  And  for  fine  women,  too  ?" 

" Cela  depend"  answered  Waring.  "  I  am  not  easily 
dazzled.  I  should  not  choose  a  woman  as  I  would  a 
horse — for  a  glossy  coat,  fine  form,  and  fine  action  only." 

"  Yet,  Waring,  you  would  demand  beauty  ?" 

"  I  do  not  underrate  it,  but  I  should  require  the  intel 
lect  and  the  soul  to  harmonize  with  the  outward  form." 

"As  in  the  case  of  Cleopatra — par  exemple" 

"Never,"  replied  Waring,  "never.  A  merely  volup 
tuous,  accomplished  woman  could  never  ensnare  me." 

"  What !  not  such  a  woman  as  enslaved  Julius  Caesar, 
and  held  Mark  Antony  captive  in  her  gilded  saloons,  until 
he  lost  a  world?" 

"  No ;  for  in  the  society  of  such  a  woman  I  might  lose 
what  is  worth  more  than  the  world,"  said  Waring  gravely. 

They  met  Mr.  Clarendon.    "  Ah  !  young  gentlemen  !"  he 


76  *  DE  VA]STE. 

exclaimed  gayly.  "  Vous  allez  ensemble,  eh  !  I  am  fortu 
nate  in  meeting  you,  for  I  was  seeking  you.  The  Duke 
of  Saxe- Weimar  is  here,  and  we  are  to  entertain  him  to 
morrow  evening.  The  time  for  preparation  is  so  short 
that  I  must  press  you  both  into  the  service.  Mrs.  Claren 
don  has  just  taken  up  Miss  Wordsworth,  and  they  are  now 
driving  to  distribute  verbal  invitations,  there  being  no 
time  to  prepare  cards.  You  must  be  good  enough  to  do 
the  same  thing  for  the  gentlemen.  Here  is  a  list  of  chosen 
names." 

Waring  and  De  Vane  expressed  their  readiness  to  serve 
him,  and  took  their  leave.  Mr.  Clarendon  proceeded  to 
the  State  House. 

"  The  Duke  of  Saxe-Weimar  !"  exclaimed  De  Yane.  "  I 
am  delighted." 

"  Yes,"  said  Waring,  "  it  will  be  a  rare  treat  for  you — 
you  are  half  German.  By  the  way,  too,  we  shall  meet 
eminent  political  men  there.  Senator  Caldwell  is  in  town, 
and  he  will  of  course  be  present." 

"Indeed,"  replied  De  Vane.  "I  shall  be  gratified  to 
meet  him.  I  am  assured  that  he  is  brilliant  in  conver 
sation." 

"  So  I  learn,"  said  Waring. 

They  called  a  carriage,  and  drove  to  such  places  as  their 
instructions  required. 

Thursday  evening  came.  It  was  propitious,  cloudless, 
and  mild.  The  moon  was  too  young  to  afford  much  light, 
but  the  stars  were  out  in  countless  hosts. 

As  Waring  and  De  Vane  approached  the  residence  of 
Mr.  Clarendon,  they  observed  that  it  was  brilliantly  light 
ed.  In  the  extensive  garden  which  surrounded  the  house, 
lamps  were  hung  from  the  trees,  and  the  scene  was  one  of 
surpassing  beauty.  They  entered,  and  were  ushered  into 
the  splendid  rooms  :  the  walls  adorned  with  pictures,  the 
works  of  masters,  which  had  been  collected  by  Mr.  Clar- 


DE   VANE.  77 

endon  in  Europe ;  old  armor,  busts,  elegantly  bound  books, 
musical  instruments,  and  the  nameless  objects  which  give 
such  a  charm  to  houses  where  taste  and  genius  guide  the 
decorations. 

Mrs.  Clarendon,  with  Esther  by  her  side,  stood  to  receive 
the  guests,  and  as  the  two  gentlemen  entered,  the  latter 
colored  a  little  for  an  instant,  but  soon  recovered  her  self- 
possession,  and  welcomed  them  gracefully.  Her  dress  was 
in  perfect  harmony  with  her  style  of  beauty ;  simple,  rich, 
and  fitted  to  her  shape,  so  as  to  show  the  form  to  advan 
tage,  without  being  in  the  extreme  of  fashion.  She  wore 
no  jewelry,  except  a  diamond  ring,  of  extraordinary  bril 
liancy,  but  in  her  hair  natural  flowers  were  braided.  The 
rooms  were  rapidly  filling ,  and  De  Yane,  after  exchanging 
a  few  words  with  Esther,  passed  on  to  where  Mr.  Claren 
don  stood,  surrounded  by  some  half-dozen  gentlemen.  One 
of  these  was  a  striking-looking  person,  short,  stoutly  built, 
with  a  grand  head.  His  features  were  large,  the  lips  some 
what  sensuous,  the  tout  ensemble  pleasing.  He  was  a  mem 
ber  of  the  House  of  Representatives  from  the  largest  city 
in  the  State,  and  a  man  of  mark.  Both  as  a  speaker  and 
writer,  he  was  distinguished  for  the  richness  and  power  of 
his  style.  He  had  travelled  with  Mr.  Clarendon  in  Europe, 
and  they  admired  each  other.  De  Yane- was  presented  to 
him,  and  he  expressed  his  gratification  at  meeting  the 
young  gentleman,  saying  that  he  heard  his  speech  in  the 
College  chapel,  and  was  so  much  pleased  that  he  had  been 
wishing  for  the  opportunity  to  tender  his  congratulations. 

"  Your  vindication,  sir,  of  classical  learning,"  said  he, 
"  does  you  great  credit." 

De  Yane  thanked  him  warmly,  saying  that  commenda 
tion  from  such  a  source  was  most  gratifying  to  him. 

At  this  moment  the  Duke  of  Saxe- Weimar  entered,  and 
came  directly  to  where  Mr.  Clarendon  was  standing.  He 
was  gigantic  in  stature,  broad-shouldered,  with  enormous 


78  DE  VANE. 

hands  and  feet,  a  beaming,  intellectual  face,  and  a  certain 
grace  in  his  movements.  He  wore  glasses,  and  looked 
altogether  like  a  man  of  culture. 

He  was  presented  to  the  gentlemen  grouped  about  him, 
and  he  entered  into  animated  conversation  with  them,  in 
which  the  leading  part  was  borne  by  the  eminent  man  who 
had  just  addressed  himself  to  De  Vane. 

Waring  came  up,  and  touching  De  Vane's  shoulder, 
invited  him  to  accompany  him  to  the  front  drawing- 
room.  As  they  entered  it,  they  saw  the  two  ladies  who 
had  attracted  their  attention  the  day  before  in  their  car 
riage,  standing  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  in  conversation 
with  Mrs.  Clarendon.  The  younger  lady  was  of  such  re 
splendent  beauty,  that  she  was  dazzling.  Her  rich,  dark 
hair,  turned  back  from  the  face,  was  gathered  in  heavy 
braids,  through  which  pearls  were  intertwisted ;  and  her 
large,  lustrous  eyes,  shaded  by  the  long  lashes,  were  full 
of  sentiment — a  sentiment  too  pure  for  passion,  and  not 
sad  enough  for  sorrow — fascinated  those  on  whom  they 
rested.  Her  finely-moulded  arms  were  as  perfect  as  if 
chiseled  from  marble,  and  her  attitude  was  the  imper 
sonation  of  grace.  Her  costume  was  brilliant.  The  dress, 
of  purple  velvet,  trimmed  with  black  Brussels  lace,  fell  in 
rich  folds  about  her  person,  which  was  scarcely  taller  than 
that  of  Esther,  but  more  matured.  She  wore  diamond 
bracelets,  set  in  enamel ;  a  diamond  necklace  to  match,  and 
a  single  ring,  in  which  a  diamond  of  large  size  flashed. 

"De  Vane,"  said  Waring,  "Mrs.  Clarendon  wished  you 
to  be  presented  to  the  ladies  with  whom  she  is  conversing." 

"  Mehercule  !  Waring,"  replied  De  Vane,  "  what  a  superb 
woman  !" 

"  She  is  very  brilliant,"  replied  the  other. 

De  Vane  advanced,  and  was  presented  by  Mrs.  Claren 
don  to  the  two  ladies,  Mrs.  Habersham  and  Miss  Godol- 
phin.  Waring  had  already  enjoyed  that  honor,  and  enter- 


DE  VANE.  79 

ed  into  conversation  with  Mrs.  Habersham,  a  stately  but 
agreeable  lady. 

"  You  must  have  come  to  us  but  recently,  Miss  Godol- 
phin,"  said  De  Yane,  "  or  I  should  have  met  you,  surely." 

"  I  came  only  last  week,"  she  replied,  "  but  I  have  not 
been  ignorant  of  you,  Mr.  De  Yane.  I  met  in  Switzerland, 
a  few  months  since,  the  Guilfords,  of  Yirginia,  who  spoke 
of  you,  and  told  me  that  you  were  here  at  college,  and  I 
had  the  pleasure  of  hearing  your  valedictory." 

De  Yane  acknowledged  the  compliment  with  a  low  bow. 
"You  are,  then,  quite  lately  from  Europe,"  he  said.  "I 
had  learned  that  the  family  of  which  you  speak  had  re 
turned,  through  my  aunt,  Mrs.  De  Yane." 

"  They  corresponded  with  her  while  abroad,  and  I  felt, 
upon  coming  home — for  this  is  my  home — that  I  almost 
knew  you  personally." 

De  Yane  felt  gratified  at  her  gracious  interest  in  him. 
So  brilliant,  so  attractive,  so  commanding,  that  she  should 
honor  him  with  her  regards  was  indeed  a  distinction. 
When  on  the  threshold  of  manhood,  attentions  from  a  wo 
man  of  our  own  age,  or  somewhat  above  it,  if  she  be  love 
ly  and  accomplished,  have  a  peculiar  charm  for  us.  They 
please,  while  they  flatter  our  amour  propre. 

"  I  am  most  fortunate,"  said  De  Yane,  "  in  having  been 
favorably  reported  to  you,  before  meeting  you." 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  "  and  you  must  allow  me  to  say 
that,  having  heard  your  speech,  I  feel  myself  indebted  to 
the  friends  who  prepared  me  for  such  a  performance.  I 
love  the  classics,  Mr.  De  Yane,  nor  do  I  think  there  is  any 
thing  in  modern  literature  which  can  rival  them." 

"  And  which  of  the  works  which  have  come  down  to  us 
from  the  golden  ages  do  you  prefer  ?" 

"  Oh  !  Homer,  of  course." 

"  Indeed,  do  you  find  him  more  agreeable  than  Yirgil  ?" 

"  A  thousand  times  more  so,"  she  replied.  "  He  is  he 
roic,  and  he  does  justice  to  woman." 


80  DE  VANE. 

"  How  ?"  said  De  Vane,  smiling.  "  In  making  the  charms 
of  Helen  inflame  the  world  with  war,  and  bring  destruc 
tion  upon  Troy  ?" 

"  Not  at  all,"  she  answered.  "  Helen  was  not  worthy 
of  such  deeds,  wrought  in  her  behalf.  It  was  to  Mene- 
laus  a  calamity  that  he  succeeded  in  winning  her.  But 
in  Andromache  and  Penelope  he  vindicates  our  sex." 

"And  how  does  Yirgil  offend  you  ?"  inquired  De  Vane. 

"  By  representing  Dido  as  dying  of  grief,  because  for 
saken  by  ^Eneas — a  most  unworthy  passion ;  for  he  was 
not  a  hero.  Had  he  been,  I  might  have  pardoned  her." 

"  Then,  too,  she  had  loved  before,"  said  Waring,  who 
had  for  some  minutes  been  standing,  with  Esther  on  his 
arm,  in  silence. 

Miss  Godolphin  flushed  to  the  temples,  turning  to  the 
speaker  with  a  glance  which  seemed  to  seek  to  read  his 
soul.  She  did  not  reply. 

"  Do  you  think  it  possible,"  said  De  Vane,  "  that  JEneas 
really  loved  the  Carthaginian  queen  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Miss  Godolphin.  "  If  he  had  loved,  how 
could  he  forsake  her  ?" 

There  was  the  deepest  sadness  in  her  tone,  and  a  shadow 
came  over  her  face. 

"  The  love  of  glory,"  said  De  Vane,  "  impelled  him  to 
spread  his  sails,  and  she  could  no  longer  detain  him." 

"  How  was  it,  then,"  she  replied,  "  that  Cleopatra  held 
Antony  ?  What  do  you  say,  Miss  Wordsworth  ?" 

Esther  started.  "  I  think,"  she  said,  "  that  Antony  was 
true  to  neither  Octavia  nor  Cleopatra.  If  he  had  loved 
either,  he  would  have  been  loyal,  and  his  ambition  would 
have  yielded  to  his  better  nature." 

De  Vane  was  astonished.  Here  stood  a  young  girl, 
scarcely  seventeen,  and  yet  she  had  solved  a  problem 
which  the  world  was  discussing,  with  so  true  a  judgment 
that  all  who  heard  her  yielded  to  it. 


DE   VANE.  81 

"You  are  right,"  said  Miss  Godolphin.  "Antony  was 
incapable  of  love.  The  ruling  passion  was  the  love  of 
glory,  and  no  tender  sentiment  can  live  in  its  fierce  blaze. 
Hector  was  a  hero,  but  he  would  never  have  deserted  An 
dromache,  save  to  defend  her  against  the  invading  Greek  ! 
See  with  what  tenderness  he  takes  leave  of  her  and  em 
braces  his  boy." 

There  was  a  wild,  passionate  sadness  in  her  tones  which 
touched  the  hearts  of  the  group  about  her.  She  might 
herself  have  been  some  queen,  standing  in  her  superb 
beauty,  sad  at  desertion,  and  yet  conquering  it  by  pride. 
What  a  contrast  Esther  presented  !  Her  glorious  beauty 
was  that  of  youth  unsaddened  by  a  shade  of  infelicity. 
Her  brilliant  complexion,  her  auburn  hair,  her  deep-blue 
eyes,  with  heaven  mirrored  in  their  clear  depths,  her  sylph- 
like  form,  and  her  perfectly-chiseled  features,  over  which 
no  cloud  of  earthly  sorrow  had  ever  darkened,  constituted 
a  combination  of  charms  at  once  pure  and  glowing.  As 
they  stood  near  each  other,  they  seemed  the  impersonation 
of  Night  and  Morning,  both  gloriously  beautiful :  the  one 
adorned  with  the  stars  of  evening  for  a  diadem  ;  the  other 
decked  with  dewy  flowers,  which  the  burning  rays. of  the 
sun  had  not  yet  kissed.  The  one  brilliant,  like  Ariadne, 
her  crown  flashing  from  her  brows  after  the  desertion  of 
Theseus  ;  the  other  like  Iphigenia  ri  her  innocence,  pure 
enough  to  minister  in  the  temple  of  Diana. 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you,"  said  Waring,  "  that  the  love 
of  glory  must  be  subdued  before  we  see  any  of  the  objects 
of  life  in  their  true  proportions.  There  is  something  in 
our  nature  grander  than  ambition — the  love  of  truth,  for 
the  sake  of  truth.  It  is  ignoble  to  live  for  human  ap 
plause.  It  is  glorious  to  seek,  amidst  the  illusions  of  life, 
the  path  which  leads  to  a  realm  whose  shadows  are  lost  in 
all-revealing  light. 
4* 


82  DE  VANE. 

Miss  Godolphin  looked  at  him  earnestly.  "  And  how," 
said  she,  "  are  we  to  find  that  path  in  the  bewildering 
mazes  about  us  ?" 

"  It  is  marked  by  foot-prints,"  replied  Waring,  "  that 
lead  us  unerringly." 

At  this  moment  Mr.  Clarendon  entered  the  room  with 
the  Duke  of  Saxe-Weimar,  and  the  gentleman  who  had 
been  in  conversation  with  him.  They  all  came  to  where 
Miss  Godolphin  was  standing,  and  the  gentlemen  were  in 
troduced  to  the  party. 

"  You  have  just  returned  from  Europe,  I  learn,"  said  the 
Duke.  "  Were  you  in  Germany  ?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  Miss  Godolphin,  "  and  in  Weimar." 

"  Ah  !  and  were  you  pleased  ?" 

"I  could  not  be  otherwise,"  she  answered.  "It  well 
deserves  its  name,  the  ATHENS  of  Germany." 

The  Duke  bowed  low. 

Miss  Godolphin  continued  :  "  The  tone  of  society  is 
charming.  Nature  and  genius  conspire  to  make  the  place 
attractive.  Such  gardens  I  never  saw.  The  theatre  is 
classical,  and  the  scholars  entertaining.  What  more  can 
one  want  on  earth  ?" 

The  conversation  now  became  general.  The  Duke  asked 
Esther  if  she  admired  the  works  of  his  countrymen,  and 
she  replied : 

"  Such  of  them  as  are  known  to  me  possess  a  certain 
charm,  but  I  can  not  judge  them  critically." 

"  Mendelssohn,  for  instance  ?" 

"  Do  you  speak  of  the  younger,"  said  she. 

"  Oh  !  no — Moses,  the  author  of  Phsedon." 

"  I  admire  his  fine  spirit,"  said  Esther,  "  but  I  must  la 
ment  his  blindness  in  refusing  to  acknowledge  the  Re 
deemer." 

The  Duke  bowed. 

"Then,"  said   the   gentleman   who   stood  by  his  side, 


DE   VANE.  83 

whose  fine  head  Esther  had  observed  with  admiration, 
"  you  may  like  Wieland  ?" 

"  I  admire  him,"  she  answered,  "  but  fear  that  his  ideal 
of  moral  beauty  was  not  that  of  the  Christian  believer." 

"  I  am  not  by  any  means  sure  of  that,"  said  the  gentle 
man.  "  His  father  was  a  Lutheran  divine,  and  his  tutor 
deeply  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  religion ;  and  in  his  Dia 
logues  of  the  Gods,  it  would  seem  that  he  intended  in  the 
words  of  the  Unknown  to  pay  a  tribute  to  Christianity  as 
the  only  system  which  can  remodel  men." 

Waring  was  delighted. 

"  I  must  now  thank  you,"  said  De  Vane,  "  for  your  vin 
dication  of  one  of  the  most  agreeable  of  all  writers." 

"  I  must  confess  my  admiration  for  Lessing,"  said  Miss 
Godolphin.  "  His  love  of  the  beautiful  was  intense  ;  he  was 
not  misled  by  the  French  taste,  but  made  his  countrymen 
acquainted  with  the  creations  of  the  ancients  and  the 
moderns — of  the  Greeks  and  of  Shakespeare." 

Mr.  Clarendon's  face  beamed.  "Allow  me,  Miss  Godol 
phin,"  he  said,  "  to  thank  you  ;"  and  with  his  hand  upon 
his  breast,  he  made  her  a  stately  bow. 

The  conversation  continued.  The  merits  of  Goethe,  of 
Schiller,  of  Herder,  and  of  Jean  Paul  Richter  were  dis 
cussed. 

"  Upon  my  soul,"  exclaimed  the  Duke,  "  I  can  fancy  my 
self  at  Weimar.  Nowhere  in  this  country  have  I  found 
any  thing  like  this  before." 

De  Yane  had  fascinated  him  by  his  enthusiasm,  and  the 
acquaintance  of  the  others  with  the  literature  of  his  coun 
try  had  been  unexpected. 

A  party  of  gentlemen  who  had  been  dining  together 
now  entered,  and  among  them  Senator  Caldwell,  accom 
panied  by  Professor  Locke  and  Professor  Niles.  The 
Senator's  appearance  was  striking.  Tall,  almost  slender, 
erect  with  features  distinctly  chiseled,  and  eyes  that 


84:  DE  VANE. 

blazed,  he  was  the  impersonation  of  intellectual  power. 
Soon  after  his  entrance,  the  conversation  turned  upon 
metaphysics,  and  the  Senator  engaged  in  it  with  ardor, 
finding  in  Professor  Locke  an  antagonist  who  drew  out  all 
his  power.  His  whole  faculties  were  engaged,  and  his 
profound  analytical  power  displayed  itself  in  the  most 
captivating  way. 

"  What  do  you  say  to  that,  Le  Grande  ?"  he  at  length 
said,  addressing  himself  to  the  gentleman  whose  short 
stature  and  intellectual  appearance  had  already  attracted 
the  attention  of  De  Vane ;  and  from  that  time  he,  together 
with  Mrs.  Clarendon,  took  part  in  the  discussion,  which 
was  only  interrupted  by  the  notes  of  the  piano  :  some  hand 
of  surpassing  skill  was  touching  its  keys,  and  the  gentle 
men  all  gathered  about  the  performer. 

Miss  Godolphin  was  seated  at  the  instrument,  and  was 
playing  a  piece  of  German  music  which  had  just  appeared. 
Her  execution  was  brilliant.  After  the  piece  was  ended, 
Professor  Niles  asked  her  to  sing.  A  shade  of  sadness 
touched  her  features,  but  after  a  moment's  hesitation,  she 
sang  Moore's  beautiful  lines  : 

"  I  saw  from  the  beach,  when  the  morning  was  shining, 

A  bark  o'er  the  waters  move  gloriously  on ; 
I  came  to  that  beach  when  the  sun  was  declining — 
The  bark  was  still  there,  but  the  waters  were  gone  1" 

She  sang  the  entire  lines,  in  tones  of  wild,  passionate, 
almost  wailing  sadness,  until  she  uttered  the  words, 

"  Give  me  back,  give  me  back  the  wild  freshness  of  morning  !" 

when  she  threw  an  energy  into  them  which  was  startling. 
An  irrepressible  burst  of  applause  followed.  Her  glove 
had  fallen,  and  as  De  Yane  stooped  to  hand  it  to  her,  he 
observed  that  tears  were  in  her  eyes.  She  rose,  and  turned 
away. 


DE  VANE.  85 

Mrs.  Niles  was  prevailed  on  to  sing.  She  took  her  seat, 
touched  the  keys  with  the  skill  of  an  artiste,  and  sang  a 
song  which  had  just  been  set  to  music  by  a  royal  hand — 

"Partant  pour  la  Syrie." 

The  Duke  was  charmed.  He  had  heard  it  in  Europe,  and 
he  exclaimed :  "  You  know  that  the  composer  is  in  exile. 
Sad  that  the  enemies  of  the  peace  of  Europe  should  bring 
misfortunes  upon  such  a  spirit !" 

Mr.  Clarendon  turned  to  Esther,  and  taking  her  hand, 
seated  her  at  the  instrument.  She  was  pale,  but  she  offered 
no  remonstrance.  She  felt  how  very  trying  the  ordeal  was 
through  which  she  was  about  to  pass,  for  her  own  know 
ledge  of  music  disclosed  the  faultless  performance  of  those 
who  had  preceded  her.  She  ran  her  fingers  over  the  keys 
lightly,  and  then  played  a  selection  from  Felix  Mendels 
sohn  Bartholdy's  "  Walpurgisnacht,"  and  sang  a  transla 
tion  of  the  words  of  Goethe.  The  effect  was  magical,  the 
power  of  the  music  rose  into  sublimity.  Miss  Godolphin 
seemed  breathless  with  emotion,  and  the  Duke  was  enthu 
siastic  in  his  applause ;  his  great  hands,  hid  in  white  kid 
gloves,  made  the  room  echo,  while  his  JBravof  Uravof 
rang  like  a  trumpet.  De  Vane  could  not  utter  a  word, 
but  his  excitement  was  so  visible,  that  Mr.  Clarendon 
smiled  as  he  saw  his  earnest  face  and  compressed  lips.  Es 
ther's  form  had  seemed  to  be  swept  by  the  power  of  the 
music ;  her  face  wore  a  glory  that  was  caught  from  the  in 
spiration  of  the  moment,  and  when  the  keys  were  silent, 
her  faultless  hands  were  clasped  unconsciously  before  her. 
Never  had  De  Vane  witnessed  such  enthusiasm  in  her  be 
fore  ;  she  was  like  a  sibyl  absorbed  by  the  revelation  of 
her  own  faculties.  Waring  spoke  to  her,  and  asked  her  to 
add  a  single  song  more. 

"  What  shall  it  be  ?"  said  Esther. 

"  Any  thing  which  you  may  select,"  he  replied. 


88  DE  VANE. 

She  sang  those  lines  in  which  the  genius  of  Moore  seemed 
under  the  influence  of  heavenly  inspiration — 

i 
"  0  Thou  who  driest  the  mourner's  tear  !" 

Her  voice  almost  trembled  with  sensibility,  and  as  the 
dying  cadence  was  lost  in  the  air,  the  sympathy  of  the 
company  was  so  deep  and  their  taste  so  appreciative,  that 
not  a  word  was  uttered. 

She  rose  from  the  instrument,  and  Miss  Godolphin,  ad 
vancing,  took  her  hand  in  both  her  own,  and  said  : 

"  Miss  Wordsworth,  I  thank  you  for  interpreting  music 
to  me  in  a  way  which  makes  me  feel  its  glory." 

"  Such  a  tribute  from  you,  Miss  Godolphin,"  said  Mr. 
Clarendon,  "my  young  friend  may  well  prize." 

"  I  prize  it  very  highly,  Mr.  Clarendon,"  said  Esther. 

Some  one  proposed  that  they  should  visit  the  lighted  gar 
den.  De  Vane  gave  his  arm  to  Esther,  and  they  walked 
out,  followed  by  Waring  and  Miss  Godolphin  and  others 
of  the  party.  The  scene  was  one  of  rare  beauty.  The 
walks  led  through  evergreens  lighted  with  lamps  of  vari 
ous  colors. 

"  Miss  Wordsworth,"  said  De  Vane,  "  you  must  have 
thought  me  misanthropic  when  we  last  met,  but  you  can 
not  comprehend,  of  course,  my  social  philosophy  ;  you 
have  seen  nothing  of  the  heartlessness  of  society." 

"  No,  Mr.  De  Vane,"  she  replied,  "  I  have  found  nothing 
but  kindness.  I  see  that  there  is  unhappiness  in  the  great 
world  about  me,  but  I  seem  to  walk  in  a  charmed  circle." 

"  Yes,  you  remind  me  of  what  Coleridge  says  : 

*  0  lady  !  we  receive  but  what  we  give, 
And  in  our  life  alone  does  nature  live. 

Ah  !  from  the  soul  itself  must  issue  forth 
A  light,  a  glory,  a  fair  luminous  cloud 
Enveloping  the  earth.' 


DE  VANE.  87 

All  within  yon  is  so  bright  that  yon  see  the  world  about 
yon  under  the  light  which  your  own  spirit  sheds  over  it." 

"You  judge  me  quite  too  favorably,  Mr.  De  Vane," 
said  Esther. 

"My  observation  has  taught  me,"  he  said,  "that  the 
world  surrenders  the  beautiful  and  the  good  for  the  ad 
vancement  of  its  own  system.  It  worships  false  gods,  and 
the  sacrifices  which  it  brings  to  their  altars  are  the  most 
costly  of  all  that  are  laid  upon  any  shrine — living  hearts. 
It  reproduces  in  modern  times  the  cruel  worship  of  that 
people  denounced  in  the  Scriptures,  who  made  their  sons 
and  their  daughters  pass  through  the  fire  in  the  wildness 
of  their  cruel  idolatry." 

"  I  do  not  know  that  I  understand  you,  Mr.  De  Yane," 
said  Esther,  surprised  at  his  earnestness. 

"  I  trust,"  he  replied  bitterly,  "  that  you  never  may." 

"  Perhaps,"  she  said,  "  you  are  taking  your  estimate  of 
society  from  Coleridge.  But  you  would  not  abandon  it, 
as  he  proposed  at  one  time  to  do,  nor  reconstruct  it  upon 
his  ideal  system — would  you  ?  " 

"I'm  not  sure  that  I  would  not,"  said  De  Yane.  "I 
value  the  conventionalisms  of  the  world  less  every  day 
that  I  live." 

"Better  contend  with  what  is  bad  in  the  world,  and 
strive  to  make  it  happier,"  said  Esther.  "  I  do  not  think 
that  we  should  withdraw  from  the  world,  because  it  is 
distasteful  to  us." 

"  But,"  said  De  Yane,  "  it  offends  me.  I  love  its  better 
aspects,  but  I  scorn  its  meaner  ones ;  and  so  perverse 
am  I,  that  I  am  repelled  on  the  other  side  by  goodness 
itself,  if  it  has  not  the  graces  which  certainly  do  belong 
to  good  society.  I  sympathize  intensely  with  the  Greeks 
in  their  love  of  the  beautiful,  the  TO  nahov.  I  could  not 
worship  the  good,  if  stripped  of  its  loveliness." 


88  DE  VANE. 

"  Undine,"  replied  Esther,  "  might  have  felt  thus  before 
she  received  a  soul,  but  surely  not  afterward." 

"  De  Vane,"  called  out  Waring,  "  do  you  intend  that 
Miss  Wordsworth  shall  lose  her  supper  ?" 

"  Ah  !  "  said  De  Vane,  "  it  seems  that  we  must  not  for 
get  our  bodies.  We  were  just  speaking  about  the  soul, 
Waring." 

"Indeed!"  he  replied.  "I  am  glad  to  learn  that  your 
thoughts  are  so  well  directed." 

"We,  too,  were  looking  heavenward,"  said  Miss  Godol- 
phin ;  "  for  I  was  just  saying  that  these  lamps  could  not 
obscure  those  stars  that  burn  so  far  above  us,  though  they 
seem  so  Brilliant." 

"  They  looked  upward,  and  the  quenchless  stars  could 
be  seen  in  the  pure  heavens,  burning  calmly  far  above ; 
lights  which  would  still  endure,  when  the  glaring  lamps 
were  all  extinguished,  and  the  scene  about  them  lost 
its  illusions.  They  entered  the  house,  and  a  gay  con 
versation  followed  at  the  supper-table. 

When  the  guests  were  dispersing,  De  Vane  sought 
Esther,  adjusted  her  wrappings,  and  conducted  her  to  the 
carriage,  where  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Springfield  were  already 
seated.  Before  reaching  it,  he  said : 

"We  did  not  conclude  our  conversation,  Miss  Words 
worth.  I  am  in  a  labyrinth,  and  you  must  extricate  me." 

She  smiled,  but  made  no  reply.  The  carriage  dashed 
away ;  and  De  Vajie  really  felt  as  if  he  had  lost  a  GUIDE. 


CHAPTER  X. 

"THE  highest  honors  that  the  world  can  boast 

Are  subjects  far  too  low  for  my  desire ; 

The  brightest  beams  of  glory  are  at  most 

But  dying  sparkles  of  Thy  living  fire." 

FRANCIS  QUARLES. 

ON  Saturday,  at  noon,  a  small  traveling-carriage,  drawn 
by  a  pair  of  well-matched  dark  bay  horses,  drove  up  to 
Mr.  Springfield's  residence.  Two  gentlemen  alighted 
from  it,  one  of  them  a  venerable  man,  of  most  impressive 
appearance,  the  other  much  younger.  Mrs.  Springfield  came 
to  the  door  to  meet  them,  and  her  face  flushed  with 
pleasure. 

"  Bishop  McKendree !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  I  am  delighted 
to  see  you.  "We  were  looking  for  you ; "  and  she  conducted 
the  gentlemen  into  the  house. 

Bishop  McKendree  and  his  traveling  companion,  a  young 
minister  of  the  Tennessee  Conference,  were  welcomed  with 
a  warmth  that  gratified  them,  and  made  them  feel  that  they 
had  reached  a  home.  Some  such  homes  there  were  through 
out  the  wide  extent  of  country  embraced  within  the  Bishop's 
diocese,  where  it  was  felt  to  be  an  honor  to  receive  such  a 
guest ;  but  it  was  with  very  great  satisfaction  that  he  en 
tered  this  house.  Its  well-known  hospitality,  its  refine 
ment,  its  abounding  comforts,  and  the  ties  of  personal 
friendship — all  endeared  it  to  him.  Esther  came  in  soon 
after  the  Bishop's  arrival,  and  she  was  warmly  greeted  by 

(89) 


90  DE  VANE. 

him.  He  had  known  her  father.  Laying  his  hand  solemnly 
upon  her  head,  bright  with  its  rich  golden  hair,  he  said : 

"May  the  Lord  bless  thee,'with  the  blessings  of  heaven 
above  and  of  earth  beneath  !  " 

As  she  raised  her  head,  Mrs.  Springfield  saw  that  tears 
trembled  upon  her  eyelids ;  and  Esther  felt  that  she  bore 
away  with  her,  as  she  left  the  room,  a  treasure  of  priceless 
value  in  the  blessing  of  an  apostolic  man,  whose  hands  had 
been  laid  upon  the  head  of  her  father,  consecrating  him  to 
the  self-sacrificing  ministry  in  which  he  had  laid  down  his 
life.  Mr.  Springfield,  who  had  been  out  on  horseback,  ar 
rived,  and  hastened  to  renew  the  welcome  which  had  al 
ready  been  extended  to  the  venerable  guest.  In  those  days 
the  visit  of  a  Bishop  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  f  Church 
was  an  event  as  marked  and  as  highly  appreciated  as  a 
royal  visit  to  some  nobleman,  when  his  palatial  residence 
is  graced  by  the  presence  of  his  sovereign.  In  the  evening 
several  of  the  leading  Methodists  of  the  town  came  in,  and 
some  hours  were  passed  in  delightful  conversation.  Waring 
was  present,  and  gave  great  interest  to  the  conversation, 
his  fine  mind  being  fully  roused,  and  his  spirits  exhilarated 
by  the  presence  of  a  man  so  much  venerated  by  him.  The 
social  qualities  of  the  Bishop  were  such  as  to  make  him  an 
agreeable  companion  for  both  young  and  old.  There  was 
dignity,  but  nothing  of  coldness  in  his  manner;  and  his 
benevolence  was  so  shining,  that  children  and  servants  felt 
they  could  approach  him.  The  hour  of  nine  came — the 
Bishop's  hour  for  retiring ;  the  Bible  and  the  hymn-book 
were  placed  on  a  table  by  his  side,  and  he  proceeded  to 
conduct  the  evening  service.  After  reading  one  of  the 
Psalms,  ife  rose  and  gave  out  the  lines  of  a  hymn,  which  all 
joined  in  singing ;  and  then,  all  kneeling,  he  offered  a  simple, 
earnest  prayer.  Upon  resuming  their  seats,  every  one  felt 
calmed — spiritualized — as  if  an  angel,  in  passing  had  shaken 
his  wings,  and  left  a  heavenly  atmosphere,  which  filled  the 


DE   VANE.  91 

place.  The  Bishop  rose,  and  taking  leave  of  the  company, 
was  conducted  to  his  chamber.  Most  of  the  persons  pre 
sent  left  at  the  same  time;  but  Waring  remained,  and  con 
tinued  for  some  time  in  conversation  with  the  family. 

Mrs.  Springfield  expressed  her  gratification  at  having  the 
Bishop  with  them ;  saying  that  they  were  entertaining  "  an 
angel,"  but  not  "  unawares." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Waring,  "  no  purer  man,  nor  kindlier  one, 
breathes  the  breath  of  life.  He  blends  the  courage  of  Peter 
with  the  gentleness  of  John.  What  stay  is  he  to  make 
with  you,  Mrs.  Springfield  ?" 

"  He  will  not  leave  us  before  Thursday.  He  is  about  to 
preside,  as  you  know,  over  the  Conference,  which  is  to  meet 
in  Augusta." 

"  Yes,  and  he  can  reach  there  easily  by  Saturday  in  the 
forenoon,  taking  an  early  departure  on  Thursday.  I  must 
bring  De  Vane  to  see  him.  He  is  a  Virginian,  you  know  ; 
so  is  the  Bishop ;  and  he  has  heard  favorably  of  him, 
through  an  aunt  of  his  in  that  State." 

Mrs.  Springfield  said :  "  We  shall  be  happy  to  see  Mr.  De 
Vane.  I  think  highly  of  him.  Do  you  know  his  religious 
sentiments,  Mr.  Waring  ?" 

"  He  has  no  well-defined  religious  opinions,"  replied  War 
ing.  "He  was  brought  tip  in  the  Protestant  Episcopal 
Church,  and  yields  a  general  assent  to  its  creed,  I  believe  ; 
but  for  two  or  three  years  he  has  been  looking  into  German 
literature,  and  I  fear  lives  somewhat  in  cloud-land." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  I  remember  your  saying 
something  of  that  kind  to  us  when  we  first  made  his  ac 
quaintance.  We  must  bring  him  into  the  clear  light." 

"  I  should  rejoice  to  see  him  reach  it,"  said  Waring.  "  His 
nature  is  a  noble  one,  and  if  converted,  he  would  not  hesi 
tate  to  profess  his  faith  anywhere,  though  the  whole  coun 
try  rang  with  the  cry :  '  Is  Saul  also  among  the  pro 
phets  r* 


92  DE  VANE. 

"  I  hope  the  cry  may  soon  be  heard,"  said  Mr.  Spring 
field. 

"It's  a  little  strange,"  said  Waring,  "that  De  Vane  has 
never  heard  more  than  one  sermon  by  a  Methodist  minister 
in  all  his  life.  He  heard  you,  you  remember,  and  he  was 
delighted;  but  he  insists  that  such  a  discourse  in  a  Meth 
odist  Chapel  is  to  be  heard  only  on  rare  occasions." 

They  all  smiled,  and  Mr.  Springfield  remarked  that  he 
was  very  much  obliged  to  him  for  his  appreciation. 

"  You  will  bring  him  to  hear  the  Bishop  to-morrow  morn 
ing,  Mr.  Waring,  will  you  not  ?"  said  Esther. 

"  Oh  !  yes,  he  will  feel  an  interest  in  him  from  what  his 
aunt  has  written.  She  describes  him  as  a  most  eloquent 
preacher." 

"  How  is  it,"  asked  Mrs.  Springfield,  "  that  he  is  so  ex 
clusive  ?  His  nature  seems  to  be  a  generous  one." 

"  Why,"  replied  Waring,  "  his  family  is  one  of  the  most 
aristocratic  in  Virginia.  He  is  a  PATKICIAN,  so  by  descent, 
by  alliance,  by  education,  by  taste — in  short,  by  every  thing. 
The  great  wealth  of  General  De  Vane  puts  it  in  his  power 
to  give  his  son — and  George  is  an  only  son — every  advan 
tage.  He  would  not  permit  him  even  to  attend  a  common- 
school,  but  employed  masters  for  him  at  home ;  and  he 
would  not  have  consented  that  he  should  enter  any  other 
college  in  the  Southern  country  than  this.  The  great  won 
der  is,  that  he  is  not  spoiled  ;  but  he  is  not  in  the  least  so. 
He  loves  rank,  glory,  fame,  but  he  loves  truth  better  than 
either ;  and  while  he  feels  the  value  of  caste,  he  will  never 
sacrifice  himself  for  any  ignoble  object.  Many  would  call 
his  ideal  of  the  good  and  the  true  romantic,  but  his  ster 
ling  sense  is  not  under  any  illusion  ;  and  he  would  sacrifice 
every  thing  before  he  would  abandon  what  he  felt  that  he 
ought  to  adhere  to  and  vindicate." 

"  You  speak  of  your  friend  with  enthusiasm,  Mr.  War 
ing,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield. 


I)E   VANE.  93 

"  He  rouses  my  nature,"  replied  Waring.  "  He  is  my 
friend.  I  am  strongly  attached  to  him ;  he  rises  so  far 
above  the  ordinary  standard  of  young  men  whom  I  meet, 
that  I  honor  him  as  much  as  I  love  him." 

"We  shall  expect  you  to  bring  him  to  see  us,  Mr.  War 
ing,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield.  "  I  am  sure  that  he  will  be 
charmed  with  the  Bishop,  who  has  himself  the  appearance 
of  a  patrician." 

Esther  had  listened  to  the  conversation  with  interest,  but 
she  remained  silent. 

Waring  rose  and  took  his  leave. 

Sunday  came,  and  overspread  the  world  with  its  tranquil 
beauty.  The  arrival  of  Bishop  McKendree  being  widely 
known,  the  Methodist  church  was  filled  to  overflowing  at 
an  early  hour.  The  citizens  generally,  of  all  denominations 
and  of  every  class,  pressed  into  the  humble  meeting-house. 
The  aristocratic,  the  great,  and  the  humble,  were  all  eager 
to  hear  a  man  so  eminent  for  his  virtues,  his  heroic  services 
in  the  cause  of  Christ,  and  his  eloquence  as  a  preacher. 
Waring  was  in  his  accustomed  seat,  De  Vane  by  his  side  ; 
and  as  the  former  glanced  over  the  congregation,  he  was 
pleased  to  see  Mr.  Clarendon,  Mr.  Hallam,  and  other  emi 
nent  men ;  and  among  the  ladies,  Mrs.  Clarendon,  with  Mrs. 
Habersham  and  Miss  Godolphin.  The  Governor  of  the 
State  entered  with  his  family,  and  seats  were  found  for  them 
quite  near  the  pulpit. 

Precisely  at  half-past  ten  o'clock,  Bishop  McKendree  en 
tered  the  church,  attended  by  Mr.  Springfield  and  Mr.  Ken 
nedy,  the  pastor,  and  walked  up  the  aisle  to  the  pulpit. 
The  appearance  of  the  Bishop  was  very  impressive.  Nearly 
six  feet  in  height,  and  well-formed,  he  was  the  imperson 
ation  of  manly  vigor  and  activity,  yielding  somewhat  to  the 
advance  of  age.  His  face  exhibited  intellectual  power,  blend 
ed  with  benevolence  and  firmness.  His  hair  fell  away  from 
the  forehead  in  heavy  locks,  and  rested  on  his  collar.  He 


DE  VANE. 

wore  a  long-waisted,  single-breasted  black  cloth  coat,  with 
a  standing  collar,  black  vest,  and  breeches  of  the  same  ma 
terial  terminating  at  the  knee,  where  they  were  fastened 
with  silver  buckles,  long  black  stockings,  and  polished 
shoes,  with  silver  buckles — the  style  of  dress  which  one  sees 
in  the  portrait  of  Washington  by  Stuart.  After  kneeling 
for  a  few  moments  in  silent  prayer,  the  Bishop  rose,  and 
opened  the  services  by  reading  from  the  Scriptures  of  the 
Old  and  the  New  Testaments.  He  then  read  the  hymn  deli 
berately  and  impressively,  and  afterward  recited  the  lines, 
two  by  two,  while  the  congregation,  rising  to  their  feet, 
sang  them  with  a  good  spirit,  the  Bishop  pausing  occasionally 
to  invite  attention  to  the  sentiments  which  they  were  utter 
ing  in  song.  The  prayer  which  followed  was  comprehen 
sive,  earnest,  spiritual,  and  deeply  reverential,  as  if  the  glo 
ries  of  the 'eternal  world  were  in  view.  No  taste,  however 
critical,  could  be  offended ;  no  heart,  however  worldly, 
could  be  untouched  ;  and  many  felt  that  angels'  wings  rus 
tled  in  their  midst,  as  the  fine,  pleading  voice  of  the  Bishop 
ascended  to  the  celestial  courts.  After  the  prayer,  another 
hymn  was  sung — the  volume  of  sound  swelling  beyond  the 
tones  of  an  organ,  and  rising  heavenward. 

The  text  was  from  the  First  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians, 
chapter  thirteenth  and  verse  thirteenth  :  "  And  now  abideth 
faith,  hope,  and  charity,  these  three ;  but  the  greatest  of 
these  is  charity." 

The  sermon  was  one  of  extraordinary  interest  and  power, 
blending  grandeur  and  tenderness ;  and  tears  fell  from  many 
eyes  unused  to  weep.  The  graphic  power  of  the  Bishop 
was  great,  and  his  illustrations  brought  the  living  scenes  to 
view.  In  describing  faith  as  a  principle,  he  insisted  that  one 
of  the  tests  was  obedience — simple,  thorough  obedience ;  and 
he  showed  how  Saul,  the  stately  king  of  Israel,  erred,  in  de 
parting  from  the  instructions  given  him  as  to  the  destruction 
of  the  Amalekites.  "  Thus  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts  :  I  remem- 


DE  VANE.  95 

ber  that  which  Amalek  did  to  Israel — how  he  laid  wait  for 
hira^in  the  way,  when  he  came  up  from  Egypt.     Now  go 
and  smite  Amalek,  and  utterly  destroy  all  that  they  have, 
and  spare  them  not,  but  slay  both  man  and  woman,  infant 
and  suckling,  ox  and  sheep,  camel  and  ass."     The  battle 
was  fought ;  Saul  was  victorious.     The  next  morning,  Sam 
uel,  the  prophet,  goes   to  visit   the   conquering  king,  en 
camped  at  Carmel,  who  comes  forth  to  meet  him,  saying : 
"  Blessed  be  thou  of  the  Lord  :  I  have  performed  the  com 
mandment    of   the    Lord.      The    prophet    replied :    What 
meaneth,  then,  this  bleating  of  sheep  in  mine  ears,  and  the 
lowing  of  the  oxen  which  I  hear  ?     And  Saul  said :  They 
have  brought  them  from  the  Amalekites ;  for  the  people 
spared  the  best  of  the  sheep  and  of  the  oxen,  to  sacrifice 
unto  the  Lord  thy  God  ;  and  the  rest  we  have  utterly  de 
stroyed.      Then  Samuel  said  unto   Saul,  Stay,  and  I  will 
tell  thee  what  the  Lord  hath  said  to  me  this  night.     And  he 
said  unto  him,  Say  on.     And  Samuel  said,  When  thou  wast 
little  in  thine  own  sight,  wast  thou  not  made  the  head  of 
the  tribes  of  Israel,  and  the  Lord  anointed  thee  king  over 
Israel?     And  the  Lord  sent  thee  on  a  journey,  and  said, 
Go  and  utterly  destroy  the  sinners  the  Amalekites,  and  fight 
against  them  until  they  be   consumed.     Wherefore,  then, 
didst  thou  not  obey  the  voice  of  the  Lord,  but  didst  fly  upon 
the  spoil,  and  didst  evil  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord  ?     And 
Saul  said  unto  Samuel,  Yea,  I  have  obeyed  the  voice  of  the 
Lord,  and  have  gone  the  way  which  the  Lord  sent  me,  and 
have  brought  Agag,  the  king  of  Amalek,  and  have  utterly 
destroyed  the  Amalekites.     But  the  people  took  of  the  spoils, 
sheep  and  oxen,  the  chief  things  of  which  should  have  been 
utterly  destroyed,  to  sacrifice  unto  the  Lord  th/  God,  in 
Giigal.     And  Samuel  said,  Hath  the  Lord  as  great  delight 
in  burnt-offerings  and  sacrifices  as  in  obeying  the  voice  of 
the  Lord  ?     Behold,  to  obey  is  better  than  sacrifice,  and  to 
hearken,  than  the  fat  of  rams.     For  rebellion  is  as  the  sin  of 
witchcraft,   and  stubbornness  is  as  iniquity   and   idolatry 


96  DE   VANE. 

Because  thou  hast  rejected  the  word  of  the  Lord,  he  hath 
also  rejected  thee  from  being  king." 

All  this  was  recited  in  a  manner  so  life-like,  that  a  pano 
ramic  view  of  the  scene  could  not  have  brought  it  more  dis 
tinctly  before  the  audience ;  and  he  proceeded  to  describe 
the  confession  of  the  king,  his  being  overawed  by  the 
people  and  yielding  to  them,  which  was  the  result  of  want 
of  faith  in  God ;  the  eagerness  of  Saul  still  to  reign ;  his 
grasping  the  mantle  of  Samuel  to  detain  him ;  its  rending 
in  his  hand ;  and  the  prophet's  prediction  of  the  king's  over 
throw.  Every  one  felt  impressed  with  the  dread  majesty 
of  God — awed  in  his  presence — and  trembled  before  the 
unswerving  rectitude  of  his  administration. 

Then,  when  the  Bishop  had  shown  what  faith  is,  he  de 
scribed  hope — its  exulting,  far-reaching  view  of  the  world 
which  lies  beyond  the  boundaries  of  time  ;  its  revealing 
splendors,  filling  the  soul  with  joy  unutterable  and  full  of 
glory ;  its  power  to  hold  the  soul  steadily  amidst  the  storms 
of  life.  Then  came  his  beautiful  description  of  charity, 
greater  than  faith  or  hope — a  mighty  principle,  dwelling  on 
earth  and  in  heaven  ;  the  same  love  warming  the  heart  of  an 
archangel  and  filling  the  soul  of  the  Christian.  The  power  to 
work  miracles ;  the  gift  of  tongues ;  the  most  boundless 
munificence  in  ministering  to  the  wants  of  others — all,  all 
paled  before  the  surpassing  glory  of  love,  which  would  give 
us  the  victory  over  all  things,  and  enable  even  an  expiring 
martyr  to  exclaim : 

"  Sink  down,  ye  separating  hills  ! 
Let  sin  and  death  remove ! 
'Tis  love  that  drives  my  chariot-wheels, 
And  death  must  yield  to  love." 

The  effect  of  the  discourse  was  visible  throughout  the 
congregation,  and  Waring  looking  about  him  at  its  close, 
saw  tears  coursing  down  the  cheeks  of  Mr.  Hallam.  Miss 
Godolphin's  face  was  buried  in  her  handkerchief,  and  Mr. 
Clarendon's  countenance  exhibited  deep  emotion. 


DE   VANE.  97 

Another  hymn  was  sung, 
r  "  0  glorious  hope  of  perfect  love  !" 

and  the  volume  of  song  which  swelled  loud  and  strong, 
could  scarcely  drown  the  sobs  and  exclamations  which 
would  break  forth  from  some  hearts.  De  Yane  was  im 
pressed.  He  felt  the  immeasurable  superiority  which  the 
glorious  views  spread  before  him  possessed  over  all  the 
pageantry  of  human  life  in  its  most  imposing  aspects.  The 
sublime  outlines  of  the  Redeemer's  kingdom,  embracing  the 
universe,  were  seen  by  him,  and  the  pomp  and  splendor  of 
the  world  paled  before  its  transcendent  excellence.  Ambition, 
power,  empire — all  appeared,  in  that  moment,  trifling  and 
insignificant ;  and  the  largest  interests  of  time  shrank  into 
nothingness  before  the  eternity  which  stretched  inimitably 
around  him.  Then,  too,  the  earnestness  of  this  religion 
touched  his  heart ;  no  mere  routine  of  duties,  no  cold  outline 
of  forms,  but  a  living,  fervent,  spiritual  worship  was  all 
around  him.  Even  his  tastes  were  not  offended;  for  the 
very  presence  of  the  Bishop — a  man  of  culture  and  refine 
ment,  as*  well  as  of  earnestness  and  power — impressed  the 
whole  service,  and  guided  and  elevated  it.  After  another 
prayer,  the  Bishop  pronounced  the  benediction,  and  all  felt 
the  calm  and  spiritual  influence  of  his  apostolic  face,  his 
outspread  hands,  and  his  words,  beneficent  as  heaven  itself. 
Long  lingered  the  influence  of  the  morning's  service  in 
the  hearts  of  the  great  congregation  ;  and  the  unpretending 
chapel  seemed,  to  the  view  of  many,  like  the  glorious  temple 
which  crowned  Mount  Moriah,  the  singers  lifting  up  the 
voice  in  praise  and  thanksgiving,  with  the  trumpets  and 
cymbals  and  instruments  of  music,  saying  :  "  For  He  is  good ; 
for  his  mercy  endureth  forever."  Then  the  house  was  filled 
with  a  cloud,  so  that  the  priests  could  not  stand  to  minister, 
by  reason  of  the  cloud,  for  the  glory  of  the  Lord  had  filled 
the  house  of  G-od. 
5 


CHAPTER    XI. 

**  As  pilot  well  expert  in  perilous  wave, 
That  to  a  steadfast  star  his  course  hath  bent, 
When  foggy  mists  or  cloudy  tempests  have 
The  faithful  light  of  that  fair  lamp  yblent, 
And  covered  heaven  with  hideous  detriment ; 
Upon  his  card  and  compass  firmes  his  eye, 
The  maystery  of  his  long  experiment, 
And  to  them  does  the  steddy  helm,  apply, 
Bidding  his  winged  vessell  fairly  forward  fly." 

SPKNSKR'S  Faerie  Queene. 

MONDAY  evening  came,  and  Waring,  accompanied  by  De 
Vane,  walked  to  the  house  of  Mr.  Springfield  at  an  early 
hour.  They  were  warmly  welcomed  by  Mr.  Springfield, 
who  conducted  them  to  the  library,  where  they  found  sev 
eral  persons,  who  had  called  to  pay  their  respects  to  the 
Bishop.  Others  called  in  the  course  of  the  evening,  and 
among  them  Mr.  Clarendon  and  Mr.  Hallam. 

Mr.  Hallam's  father  had  been  a  Methodist  minister,  had 
known  Bishop  McKendree,  and  had  died,  leaving  a  spotless 
memory. 

Mr.  Clarendon  had  learned  to  venerate  the  Bishop  from 
the  teachings  of  an  aunt,  who  had  long  been  a  member  of 
the  Methodist  Church  in  Virginia.  The  conversation  be 
came  general,  and  the  Bishop  was  so  genial  that  he  charmed 
every  one.  His  manners  stately  and  yet  gentle ;  his  fine 
sense,  his  thorough  knowledge  of  public  affairs ;  and  his 
broad  views  of  questions  which  came  up  for  discussion,  made 
him  a  most  agreeable  companion  ;  and  De  Vane  felt  that  he 
would  grace  even  the  most  aristocratic  circles  of  the  land. 

(98) 


DE  VANE.  99 

Without  ostentation,  he  succeeded  in  bringing  every  thing 
in  subordination  to  Christianity,  treated  every  topic  in  its 
relations  to  it,  and  impressed  every  one  with  the  idea  that 
the  true  solution  of  all  questions  must  be  found  in  the  phi 
losophy  of  God's  government  of  the  world.  All  statesman 
ship,  he  argued,  must  be  guided  by  the  divine  law,  if  it 
would  advance  the  true  glory  and  prosperity  of  the  coun 
try. 

"But,  Bishop,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "you  would  not 
bring  about  an  alliance  between  the  Church  and  the  State  ?" 

"  No,"  replied  the  Bishop.  "  But  I  would  recognize 
Christianity  distinctly.  I  would  conduct  the  affairs  of  the 
government  in  direct  reference  to  the  teachings  of  Jesus 
Christ.  There  need  be  no  political  arrangement  such  as 
exists  in  England  ;  but  the  principles  of  Christianity  should 
be  acknowledged  as  the  only  basis  of  the  government." 

"  Would  not  that  involve  the  necessity  of  providing  for 
some  particular  mode  of  worship  ?"  asked  Mr.  Clarendon. 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  the  Bishop.  "  It  would  be  unwise  to 
erect  an  establishment,  but  the  institutions  of  Christianity 
should  be  recognized  by  the  organic  law  of  the  state.  We 
ought  not  to  content  ourselves  with  a  general  reference  to 
the  government  of  God  in  our  state  papers  ;  but  Christian 
ity — the  system  of  truth  revealed  in  the  New  Testament — 
should  be  accepted  and  honored,  if  we  would  perpetuate 
our  free  institutions." 

"  I  think,  Bishop,  that  is  already  done  to  some  extent," 
said  Mr.  Hallam.  "  We  observe  the  Christian  Sabbath,  and 
protect  it  by  law." 

"  Quite  true,"  replied  the  Bishop.  "  But  I  fear  that  the 
tendency  is  to  conduct  the  government  of  this  country  upon 
principles  of  human  wisdom  ;  and  I  believe  that  no  political 
system  can  stand  that  does  not  clearly  and  broadly  recog 
nize  the  law  of  God  as  the  all-impelling  power  which  guides 
the  fortunes  of  our  race." 


100  DE  VANE. 

"  Certainly,"  said  Mr.  Hallarn,  "  there  is  much  in  history 
to  confirm  your  view." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  both  in  ancient  and  modern 
history ;  and  I  must  say  that  I  admire  the  British  govern 
ment,  however  much  I  condemn  its  ambitious  and  aggressive 
policy.  The  stability  of  that  government  is  wonderful.  Its 
people  are  free,  and  yet  the  empire  stands  amidst  the  con 
vulsions  of  the  world  with  the  fepose  of  majestic  strength. 
What  do  you  say  to  it,  Mr.  Waring  ?  Am  I  conceding  too 
much?" 

"  I  think  not,"  replied  Waring.  "  The  very  subject  which 
we  are  now  discussing  has  attracted  my  attention  much  of 
late,  and  the  philosophy  of  history  seems  to  me  to  be  un 
mistakable.  Nations  have  perished  because  they  knew  not 
God." 

"  The  British  government,"  said  Mr.  Hallam,  "  has  been 
much  misunderstood  in  this  country.  Having  been  at  war 
with  it,  we  have  accustomed  ourselves  to  denounce  it ;  but 
it  is  really,  if  we  except  our  own,  the  finest  government  on 
earth." 

"  I  think,  Mr.  De  Vane,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  you  will 
agree  heartily  with  that  opinion  ;  for  it  seemed  to  me  that 
you  favored,  in  your  oration,  which  we  all  heard  with  so 
much  pleasure,  the  distinctions  in  society  which  are  so  broad 
ly  marked  in  England." 

De  Yane  colored  slightly,  but  instantly  recovered  his  self- 
possession,  and  said :  "  It  was  my  object,  Mr.  Clarendon, 
to  show  that  the  education  of  English  gentlemen  surpassed 
that  of  any  other  class  in  any  country,  and  I  attributed  that 
to  the  advantages  which  they  enjoyed  under  the  aristocratic 
system  of  that  country.  I  must  say,  too,  that  I  admire  the 
British  government." 

"  I  think,"  said  the  Bishop,  "  that  I  observe  that  tendency 
in  the  Virginia  gentlemen,  and  I  believe,  Mr.  De  Vane,  that 
you  are  a  native  of  that  State." 


DE  VANE, 


101 


"  I  am,  sir,"  said  De  Vane,  "  and  I  am  happy  to  know  that 
some  of  my  relatives  heard  you,  upon  your  late  visit  to  Vir 
ginia." 

"Which  of  them?"  asked  the  Bishop. 

"  Mrs.  De  Vane,  an  aunt  of  mine,"  said  De  Vane. 

"  I  remember,"  said  the  Bishop,  "  to  have  met  her  at  the 
house  of  my  friend,  Mr.  Hamilton ;  and  if  you  will  allow 
me  to  say  so,  I  was  much  pleased  with  the  interest  which 
she  manifested  in  evangelical  religion.  She  impressed  me 
with  her  earnestness  as  a  Christian." 

De  Vane  was  highly  gratified.  Without  analyzing  it,  he 
felt  as  if  something  had  occurred  to  lessen  the  distance  which 
separated  his  family  from  Esther.  He  said  : 

"  Mrs.  De  Vane  wrote  me  in  such  terms  as  satisfied  me 
that  she  fully  sympathized  with  your  sentiments." 

The  Bishop  bowed.  "  Well,"  said  he,  "  you  think  well 
of  the  British  government.  I  trust  that  if  we  do  not  rival 
their  aristocratic  establishment,  we  shall  not  suffer  them  to 
outstrip  us  in  reverence  for  the  institutions  of  Christianity. 
Do  you  not  think  it  remarkable  that  the  free  states  of  an 
tiquity  could  not  perpetuate  their  liberty  ?" 

"  It  is,  sir,"  replied  De  Vane,  "  an  impressive  lesson  which 
we  learn  from  ancient  history." 

"  And  yet,"  said  Waring,  "  unstable  as  political  institu 
tions  have  proved  themselves,  how  striking  is  the  fact  that 
Christianity,  springing  up  at  the  very  feet  of  the  colossal 
power  of  the  Roman  Empire,  has  come  down  to  our  times 
without  the  protection  of  governments,  and  is  to-day  state 
lier  and  stronger  than  it  ever  was  before  !" 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Bishop,  "  and  that  might  teach  us  that  a 
system  so  self-sustaining  will  infuse  its  own  conservative 
influence  into  any  government  with  which  it  is  incorporat 
ed." 

"  Your  philosophy,  Bishop,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  is  sus 
tained  by  modern  history,  too.  Look  at  England  and  France, 


102  DE   VANE. 

with  only  that  narrow  strip  of  sea  dividing  them  which  lies 
between  Dover  and  Calais." 

"  Something  must  be  attributed  to  the  difference  of  races," 
said  Mr.  Hallam.  "  The  French  people  have  their  religion 
too,  and  the  reigning  family  seems  to  be  quite  devout." 

"  Still,"  said  Waring,  "  it  seems  too  much  to  claim,  for  a 
difference  between  races,  to  attribute  to  that  the  well-order 
ed  political  system  of  England,  as  contrasted  with  the  in 
stability  of  government  in  France.  I  think  that  Protestant 
Christianity  has  much  to  do  with  it." 

"  You  are  quite  right,  I  think,  Mr.  Waring,"  said  Mr. 
Clarendon.  "  The  popular  mind  of  England,  emancipated 
by  the  Reformation,  is  fitted  for  the  reception  of  free  prin 
ciples.  The  wide  diffusion  of  Christianity  among  the  masses 
is  so  conservative,  that  liberty  of  thought  and  speech  may 
be  allowed.  The  same  latitude  permitted  in  France,  would 
inaugurate  anarchy,  and  make  it  impossible  to  uphold  any 
government." 

"Then,"  said  the  Bishop,  "it  becomes  very  important 
to  spread  the  Gospel  as  widely  as  possible  through  these 
lands." 

"  Indeed,  it  is  so,"  said  Waring ;  "  and,  therefore,  I  should 
oppose  any  thing  like  a  Church  establishment  in  this  country. 
Let  the  people  be  free  to  choose  their  own  form  of  worship  ; 
and  let  the  Gospel  be  preached  to  them  with  as  little  re 
straint  as  possible."' 

"  Free  seats,  too,  Waring  ?"  asked  Mr.  Clarendon  play 
fully. 

"  Oh !  by  all  means,"  said  Waring ;  "  free  seats  and  free 
grace." 

All  smiled,  and  the  Bishop  seemed  pleased. 

"  Does  not  that  strike  you,  De  Vane,  as  somewhat  too 
democratic  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Clarendon. 

"  I  am  not  very  well  qualified  to  judge,"  De  Yane  replied, 
"I  am  too  little  accustomed  to  that  form  of  wor- 


DE   VANE.  103 

ship  to  decide  upon  its  merits.  But  I  must  say,  that  I  am 
disposed  to  favor  free  seats,  if  the  system  works  as  well 
everywhere  as  it  does  in  this  place ;  for  I  did  not  witness 
the  slightest  confusion  in  the  very  large  congregations  as 
sembled  in  the  Methodist  church,  on  both  occasions  when  I 
was  present." 

"  Ah ! "  said  the  Bishop,  "  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  we 
sometimes  are  troubled.  I  have  witnessed  a  good  deal  of 
disorder ;  but,  after  all,  I  do  prefer  free  seats,  that  the  Gos 
pel  may  be  preached  to  the  poor." 

"  Can  you  not  provide  for  that,  Bishop,  by  leaving  some 
free  pews  ?"  said  Mr.  Clarendon. 

"  No,"  said  he.  "  The  poor  are  sensitive ;  they  do  not 
like  to  be  set  apart  as  a  class,  to  be  looked  at,  especially 
when  they  assemble  in  the  Lord's  house." 

"  The  rich  and  the  poor  meet  together,"  said  Mrs.  Spring 
field,  taking  part  in  the  conversation,  "  and  the  LOKD  is  the 
Maker  of  them  all." 

"  Madam,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  I  think  that  settles  the 
question.  I  shall  hereafter  favor  free  seats." 

"Yes,"  said  De  Vane,  "however  broad  we  may  think 
proper  to  make  the  social  distinctions  of  life,  there  ought 
to  be  one  place  in  the  universe  where  these  distinctions 
vanish,  and  that  is,  where  all  meet  before  God,  conscious  of 
the  wants  and  the  aspirations  of  a  common  humanity." 

He  spoke  with  ardor.  The  Bishop  fixed  his  eyes  on  him 
earnestly  and  kindly,  and  every  one  seemed  impressed  with 
the  elevation  and  beauty  of  the  sentiment  uttered  by  one 
so  young,  reared  so  proudly,  and  making  no  profession  of 
the  Christian  faith. 

A  sunbeam  passed  over  Esther's  face. 

"  What  stay  do  you  propose  to  make  in  this  place,  Mi\ 
De  Vane  ?  "  asked  the  Bishop. 

"  It  is  not  at  all  certain,  sir,"  he  replied.  "  I  am  at  this 
time  in  the  office  of  Mr.  Clarendon,  and  it  is  my  wish  to 
pursue  my  studies  there  for  some  time  to  come." 


104  DE  VANE. 

"  Your  father  is  in  Virginia,  I  believe  ?" 

"  Yes.  He  remains  much  at  home,  and  I  shall  visit  him 
in  the  course  of  the  next  summer ;  but  it  is  by  no  means 
settled  that  I  shall  ever  return  to  Virginia  to  fix  my  resi 
dence  there." 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  we  do  not  intend  to  permit 
Virginia  to  reclaim  Mr.  De  Vane.  We  shall  keep  him  among 
us,  Bishop.  We  can  continue  to  love  our  mother,  even 
when  we  go  forth  into  the  wide  world." 

"Yes,"  said  the  Bishop,  "that  I  know  to  be  true.  A 
Virginian  myself,  I  cherish  a  sincere  love  for  my  native 
State ;  but  I  do  not  expect  even  to  visit  her  again.  My 
pilgrimage  is  nearly  ended,  and  I  shall  probably  lay  down 
my  staff  in  Tennessee,  where  I  have  passed  much  of  my 
time  of  late  years.  No  matter  where,  if,  in  my  last  mo 
ments,  I  shall  be  able  to  say :  ALL'S  WELL  !" 

The  gentlemen  here  rose  to  take  their  leave  of  the  Bishop, 
and  as  he  took  the  hand  of  De  Vane,  he  said  to  him : 

"Farewell,  sir.  You  are  young.  The  great  world  is 
before  you.  Let  ifle  urge  you  to  take  the  Word  of  God  for 
your  guide ;  it  will  be  a  lamp  unto  your  feet,  and  a  light 
unto  your  path." 

De  Vane  bowed  low,  and  all  who  saw  the  picture  long 
remembered  it :  the  venerable  form  of  the  Bishop ;  his  gray 
locks  resting  upon  his  collar;  his  face  full  of  apostolic 
earnestness,  and  the  tall  stately  form  of  the  young  patrician 
bending  before  him ;  his  dark  massive  hair  ;  his  noble  face ; 
his  features  beaming  with  emotion,  as  he  heard  the  parting 
counsel  of  the  man  of  God.  All  who  stood  grouped  around 
this  picture,  felt  that  they  had  never  witnessed  a  more  im 
pressive  scene — age  and  youth  confronting  each  other — a 
pilgrim  who  was  approaching  the  silent  river  which  sepa 
rates  TIME  from  ETERNITY,  and  a  young  man  just  entering 
upon  his  course,  full  of  strength,  and  ardor,  and  hope. 

Waring  and  De  Vane  retraced  their  steps  toward  their 


DE   VANE.  105 

lodgings.  As  they  walked  under  the  star-lit  heavens, 
neither  spoke  for  some  minutes.  At  length  De  Yane  said : 

"  Waring,  we  have  sometimes  talked  of  impressive  ob 
jects  in  nature ;  but  for  moral  sublimity,  I  have  never  seen 
"any  thing  to  rival  the  spectacle  which  that  venerable  man 
presents." 

"  I  agree  with  you,"  replied  his  friend ;  "  one  quits  his 
presence  feeling  that  he  has  been  enjoying  a  privilege  almost 
equal  to  that  of  him  who  witnessed  the  departure  of  the 
prophet.  It  is  true  we  do  not  see  the  fiery  chariot,  but  we 
can  not  doubt  that  the  man  of  God,  upon  whose  face  we 
have  just  now  looked,  will  soon  enter  the  courts  of  celestial 
glory.  His  whole  life  has  had  but  a  single  object — the 
glory  of  God.  He  has  looked  to  that  as  the  mariner  of 
early  times  did  to  the  polar  star ;  and  one  can  well  imagine 
that  angels  even  now  attend  his  steps." 

"O  Waring!"  said  De  Yane,  "I  wish  that  I  had  a 
fixed  religious  faith  like  yours !  I  am  far  out  at  sea  ;  and 
while  I  admire  and  venerate  such  a  man  as  Bishop  McKen- 
dree,  my  sentiments  are  rather  a  tribute  to  the  grand  career 
and  heroic  character  of  the  man,  than  to  the  faith  which  he 
professes.  I  should  admire  a  statesman,  a  philosopher,  or 
a  great  military  leader  just  in  the. same  way.  The  death  of 
Socrates,  of  which  Plato  gives  us  an  account  in  his  PH^EDOX, 
filled  me  with  admiration.  The  calm  dignity,  the  tenderness 
to  his  friends,  the  gentleness  toward  his  enemies,  the  steady 
resistance  to  the  entreaties  of  those  about  him,  that  he  would 
delay  a  little  longer  to  drink  the  poison,  after  the  cup  had 
been  brought  to  him,  his  taking  it  while  the  sun  yet  lin 
gered  upon  the  mountains,  all  this  impresses  me  unspeak 
ably." 

"  It  is  a  fine  picture,"  replied  Waring,  "  and  Plato  has 
sketched  it  exquisitely ;  but  really  the  spectacle  of  this  vener 
able  man,  so  heroic,  so  full  of  deep  sympathy  with  life,  so 
self-sacrificing  in  his  whole  career,  standing,  as  he  does, 
5* 


106  DE  YANE. 

near  the  invisible  boundary  of  the  future  world,  so  calmly 
surveying  that  future,  so  cheerfully  walking  upon  the 

'  silent  solemn  shore, 
Of  that  vast  ocean  he  must  sail  so  soon,1 

transcends,  in  my  view,  the  scene  which  is  brought  before  us 
by  the  eloquent  philosopher  of  the  Academy  in  describing  the 
closing  hours  of  the  illustrious  Athenian  moralist.  Socrates 
exclaimed  :  '  I  go  to  die,  you  to  live :  but  which  is  best,  the 
Divinity  alone  can  know.'  But  this  disciple  of  Christ  feels 
that,  while  it  is  his  duty  still  to  live  and  toil  for  his  Master, 
to  die  will  be  gain.  The  clouds  of  doubt  hung  about  the 
horizon  of  the  one,  the  splendors  of  supernal  glory  light  the 
way  of  the  other;  and  while*  both  fill  us  with  admiration, 
excited  by  the  heroism  exhibited  by  each,  our  highest  ho 
mage  is  due  to  the  system  of  truth  which  enables  the  dis 
ciple  of  Christ  to  see  the  immortal  light  which  overspreads 
the  scenery  of  the  future  world." 

"Waring,"  said  De  Vane,  "I  have  never  yet  found  a 
solution  for  the  tremendous  questions  which  addressed 
themselves  to  me  while  I  was  yet  young:  the  PAST — the 
FUTURE.  How  thick  the  clouds  which  cover  both !  See 
those  stars  in  countless  numbers  above  us.  When  were 
they  formed  and  marshaled  in  their  mighty  hosts  ?  Was 
there  ever  an  hour  when  the  universe  was  a  solitude  ?  And 
if  the  Being  who  created  these  shining  orbs,  which  you  and 
I  know  to  be  worlds,  fills  the  throne  of  the  universe,  in  the 
midst  of  such  an  empire,  how  can  it  be  that  he  will  fix  his 
regards  upon  us  ?  These  dread  questions  filled  my  thoughts 
when,  yet  a  boy,  I  wandered  at  night  in  the  unbroken  soli 
tude  of  the  forest  which  surrounds  my  home,  looking  at 
the  stars  as  they  seemed  to  climb  the  mountain  side ;  and 
often  have  I  watched  their  course  deep  into  the  night. 
Like  Manfred : 


DE   VANE.  107 

*  My  joy  was  in  the  wilderness,  to  breathe 
The  difficult  air  of  the  iced  mountains'  tops, 
Where  the  birds  dare  not  build,  nor  insect's  wing 
Flits  o'er  the  herbless  granite ;  or  to  plunge 
Into  the  torrent,  and  to  roll  along 
On  the  swift  whirl  of  the  new-breaking  wave 
Of  river-stream.'     .     .     . 

Oi— 

1  To  follow  through  the  night  the  moving  moon, 
The  stars,  and  their  development ;  or  catch 
The  dazzling  lightnings,  till  my  eyes  grew  dim ; 
Or  to  look  listening  on  the  scattered  leaves, 
While  autumn  winds  were  at  their  evening  song. 

and  then  I  dived, 

In  my  lone  wanderings,  to  the  caves  of  death, 
Searching  its  cause  in  its  effect.' 

Since  I  came  here,  I  have  sought  in  books  to  find  some  re 
vealing  light ;  but  so  far,  I  have  searched  in  vain." 

"  De  Vane,"  said  his  friend,  "  I  have  long  feared  this. 
You  are  following  false  lights,  blind  guides,  wandering  stars. 
I  have  observed  your  course  of  reading.  Neither  German 
philosophers,  nor  English  essayists,  nor  French  ontolpgists 
can  do  any  thing  for  you.  I  sympathize  with  the  scorn — 
yes,  the  scorn — with  which  an  Apostle — himself  a  scholar  of 
the  highest  order,  and  of  imperial  intellect — treated  such 
speculative  teachers  in  his  day — a  day  when  Roman  litera 
ture  was  striving  to  rival  the  glory  of  the  intellectual  tri 
umphs  of  Greece.  '  Where  is  the  wise  ?  where  is  the  scribe  ? 
where  is  the  disputer  of  this  world  ?  Hath  not  God  made 
foolish  the  wisdom  of  this  world  ?'  We  can  make  no  dis 
coveries  in  the  region  of  morals.  Every  thing  which  comes 
to  us  from  the  invisible  world  is  a  pure  disclosure,  and  God 
alone  can  break  the  silence  that  reigns  over  the  space  which 
separates  time  from  eternity.  If  we  would  learn,  we  must 
open  the  volume  of  his  revelation." 

*'  It  does  not  solve  the  mysteries  which  fill  the  chambers 


108  .  DE  VANE. 

of  my  soul,"  said  De  Vane.  "  It  is  too  arbitrary.  I  am 
urged  to  believe,  as  if  believing  were  an  act  of  volition,  and 
I  am  instructed  that  my  state  for  eternity  depends  upon  my 
acceptance  of  a  creed  which  I  can  not  comprehend.  I  recall 
the  past — Egypt,  the  Eastern  nations,  the  states  of  Greece, 
the  Roman  Empire  ;  all  the  wonders  of  science  which  mark 
ed  their  career ;  all  the  splendid  achievements  which  light 
their  chronicles  ;  all  the  literature  and  the  arts  which  adorn 
ed  their  annals  :  and  I  ask  myself,  can  it  be  possible  that 
the  Ruler  of  the  universe  overlooked  these  peoples,  and 
concentrated  his  regards  on  a  race  escaping  from  bondage 
on  the  banks  of  the  Nile,  and  making  their  home  afterward 
in  that  narrow  region  which  skirts  the  Mediterranean  Sea, 
where,  even  according  to  their  own  records,  they  rebelled 
constantly  against  the  very  God  whom  they  professed  to 
worship  !  Then,  too,  the  appeal  made  to  me  to  accept  as 
DIVINE  a  young  Galileean,  dwelling  nearly  his  whole  life  in 
the  provincial  region  of  a  mere  dependency  upon  the  Roman 
Empire,  and  put  to  death  at  last  by  his  own  countrymen  ! 
So  that  the  mysteries  of  nature  baffle  me,  and  the  teachings 
of  the^very  Revelation  to  which  you  refer  me  bewilder  me. 
.Dread  arcana  meet  me  at  every  glance ;  these  outspread 
heavens,  this  mother  earth :  fathomless  depths  open  before 
me  in  my  own  nature  ;  and  the  system  of  Christianity,  so 
full,  as  I  see  it  to  be,  of  what  is  good  and  beautiful,  stands 
before  me  like  a  cunningly-devised  fable,  intended  to  soothe 
the  agonizing  doubts  of  a  being  longing  to  explore  the  fu 
ture,  and  to  read  the  mysteries  of  another  state.  Who  can 
solve  the  two  great  questions  of  life — the  Whence  ?  and  the 
Whither  ?" 

"  Ah  !  De  Vane,"  said  Waring,  "  you  are  indeed  at  sea — 
a  sea  tossed  with  tempests ;  and  being  shaken  by  tumul 
tuous  waves,  you  are  losing  sight  of  the  friendly  lights 
which  mark  the  shore,  and  of  the  guiding-stars  of  heaven. 
You  are  in  great  danger  of  shipwreck.  Acquainted,  as  you 


DE   VANE.  109 

are,  with  the  philosophy  of  the  Greeks,  you  ought  to  know 
that  you  can  find  no  guide  there.  Splendid  speculations 
dazzle  you,  and  you  must  sympathize  with  the  earnest,  hope 
ful  minds  which  sought  to  explore  the  universe  without  the 
guiding  lights  of  revelation.  God's  system  for  the  recovery 
of  a  revolted  world  is  a  gradual  one,  for  it  is  a  moral  one  ; 
but  it  has  been  steadily  expanding,  until,  at  length,  it  has 
attained  the  noon-day  splendor  which  overspreads  the  Christ 
ian  states  of  the  nineteenth  century.  Not  to  enter  upon  the 
wide  sea  where  you  are  drifting  just  now,  let  me  ask  you,  is 
it  not  wonderful  that  one  man — MOSES — should,  in  the  midst 
of  the  debasing  idolatry  of  Egypt,  its  polytheism,  with  all  its 
boasted  learning,  comprehend  the  existence  of  the  one  true 
and  living  God  ?  Is  it  not  also  wonderful  that  a  people — the 
Israelites — dwelling  upon  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean 
Sea,  which  washed  the  shores  of  Greece,  of  Italy,  and  of 
Carthage,  should  alone  possess  a  knowledge  of  the  one  God  ? 
and  that  one  of  their  kings  should  have  written  such  sacred 
poems  in  praise  of  him  that,  coming  down  through  cenA- 
ries  to  our  own  times,  a  believer  can  read  them  in  the  very 
blaze  of  our  modern  civilization,  and  feel  them  to  bq  the 
noblest  tributes  to  the  Divine  Majesty  ever  offered  ?  Where 
did  they  make  their  discoveries  ?  And  is  it  not  wonderful, 
too,  that  a  young  Galileean,  as  you  style  him,  should  come 
forth  from  a  provincial  home,  and  utter  such  words  as 
eclipsed  the  learning  of  all  the  world  before  his  time,  and 
construct  a  code  which  stands  to-day  confessedly  the  purest, 
the  sublimest  system  of  morals  which  the  world  ever  knew  ? 
From  whence  did  he  derive  his  learning  ?  Where  did  he 
find  a  teacher,  so  far  in  advance  of  those  who  walked  on  the 
banks  of  the  Ilyssus,  or  instructed  their  disciples  in  the  groves 
of  Academus  ?  And  does  this  not  satisfy  you  that  he  was 
divine  ?  Leaving  out  of  view  now  his  miracles  wrought  in 
attestation  of  the  divinity  of  his  mission,  does  not  the  very 
fact  of  his  ti  \nscendent  and  peerless  utterances,  emerging, 


110  DE   VANE. 

as  he  did,  from  a  small,  uncultivated,  immoral  "village — 
Nazareth — satisfy  you  that  his  illumination  was  from  the 
uncreated  splendors  of  the  ETERNAL  HIMSELF  ?" 

De  Vane  looked  with  wonder  upon  the  glowing  face  of 
his  friend,  as  he  stood  under  the  brilliant  sky.  They  had 
stopped  in  their  walk,  both  absorbed  by  the  great  questions 
which  they  were  discussing.  His  own  features  were  lit  with 
intellectual  power,  and  he  could  not  withhold  his  admiration 
from  Waring,  now  roused  to  an  enthusiasm  which  he  had 
never  witnessed  in  him  before. 

"  We  must  talk  further  of  all  this,  Waring,"  he  remarked. 
"  I  am  indeed  tossed  upon  the  waves.  There  are  views, 
still  more  bewildering,  of  a  later  philosophy,  which  I  must 
compare  with  yours." 

"  Philosophy  falsely  so  called,"  said  Waring. 

"  When  do  you  leave  for  Georgia  ?" 

"  On  Thursday  morning,  with  the  Bishop.    Good-night !" 

"  Good-night !"  said  De  Vane. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

"IK  to  spurn  at  noble  praise 

Be  the  passport  to  thy  heaven, 

Follow  thou  those  gloomy  ways — 

No  such  law  to  me  was  given." 

MARK  AKEXSIDK. 

WARING  was  absent  for  several  weeks.  After  his  de 
parture,  De  Vane  entered  upon  his  studies  with  increased 
ardor.  He  rarely  went  into  society;  and  after  passing 
the  day  at  Mr.  Clarendon's  office,  closely  engaged  in  read 
ing,  he  would  turn  at  night  to  other  studies  ;  and  often  his 
light  was  seen  burning,  by  those  who  passed  his  lodgings; 
long  after  midnight.  His  taste  for  German  literature  was 
decided  ;  and  he  found  in  the  book-store  of  Mr.  Muller  the 
finest  collection  of  works  in  that  language  which  this  coun 
try  afforded.  The  Reviews,  too,  interested  him ;  besides 
the  British  Quarterlies,  he  had  ordered  two  from  Paris,  and 
was  supplied  with  periodicals  from  Berlin.  Just  at  that 
time,  quite  an  impulse  was  given  to  the  German  view 
of  Roman  History,  by  Niebuhr's  great  work,  Rbmisclie 
Geschichte,  which  had  been  translated  by  one  of  the  libra 
rians  of  the  British  Museum,  and  he  found  his  ambition 
fired  by  turning  the  pages  that  recorded  the  deeds  of  those 

"  sons  of  ancient  fame, 
Those  starry  lights  of  virtue  that  diffuse 
Through  the  dark  depth  of  time  their  vivid  flame." 

His  enthusiasm  was  roused,  and  all  that  was  heroic  in  his 
nature  acquired  new  vigor.     There  was  every  thing  to  en- 

(in) 


112  DE  VANE. 

courage  him ;  and  as  he  traced  the  principles  that  gave 
such  expansion  to  the  power  of  Rome,  and  sent  its  victo 
rious  eagles  at  the  head  of  conquering  legions  to  so  many 
distant  provinces,  he  felt  that  his  own  country  afforded  a 
broad  field  for  the  display  of  the  qualities  which  had  made 
the  men  who  had  constructed  that  imperial  republic  im 
mortal. 

He  communed,  too,  with  scholars — the  dead  and  the  liv 
ing — and  learned  to  disregard  society.  He  corresponded 
with  Mr.  Le  Grande,  and  his  tastes  were  directed  by  the  cul 
tivated  mind  of  that  fine  scholar.  He  was  eager  to  illus 
trate  the  statesmanship  of  his  country,  to  make  its  annals 
glorious  ;  not  by  military  exploits  only,  but  by  the  higher 
triumphs  of  the  arts  of  peace.  Patrician  as  he  was  by 
birth,  fortune,  and  association,  yet  he  believed  firmly  in  a 
popular  government ;  and  it  was  his  wish  to  see  the  insti 
tutions  of  the  country  developed  upon  the  principles  so 
clearly  set  forth  in  the  Constitution.  Impressed  with  the 
wisdom  of  the  British  Government,  he  aspired  to  still  high 
er  statesmanship  than  the  nature  of  that  government  per 
mitted  to  be  exhibited.  It  was  his  wish  to  guide  the  com 
plex  political  system  of  this  country  to  still  nobler  triumphs. 
Aristocratic  in  his  tastes,  yet  he  desired  the  widest  expan 
sion  for  popular  sentiment,  and  he  felt  that  it  was  a  far 
higher  position  to  stand  before  the  world  called  to  the  great 
places  of  trust  by  the  people,  than  to  accept  a  portfolio  from 
a  monarch.  Then,  too,  this  great  continent,  so  widely  se 
parated  from  the  empires  of  the  old  world,  afforded,  in  his 
view,  a  field  for  the  cultivation  of  the  highest  powers  of 
statesmanship.  Free  States,  united  by  a  common  govern 
ment,  would  rival  each  other  in  the  glorious  task  of  ad 
vancing  human  liberty  ;  and  he  looked  forward  to  the  day 
when  a  great  people,  enjoying  the  freest  political  institu 
tions  under  the  heavens — inheriting  the  laws,  the  language, 
and  the  religion  of  England — would  spread  the  highest  civil- 


DE  VANE.  113 

ization  the  world  ever  saw,  between  the  two  great  oceans, 
the  Atlantic  and  the  Pacific  ;  realizing  the  glowing  tribute 
to  our  country  which  had  just  then  been  paid  to  it  by  a 
noble  poet  who  laid  down  his  life  in  Greece,  a  martyr  to 
his  heroic  love  of  that  classic  land  : 

"  Still  one  great  clime, 
Whose  vigorous  offspring  by  dividing  ocean 
Are  kept  apart,  and  nursed  in  the  devotion 
Of  freedom,  which  their  fathers  fought  for  and 
Bequeathed — a  heritage  of  heart  and  hand, 
And  proud  distinction  from  each  other  land — 
Still  ONE  GREAT  CLIME,  in  full  and  free  defiance, 
Yet  rears  her  crest,  unconquered  and  sublime, 
Above  the  far  Atlantic." 

Mr.  Clarendon  observed  him  with  great  interest,  and  en 
couraged  him  in  his  generous  studies,  and  a  strong  friend 
ship  grew  up  between  them.  De  Yane  sometimes  called  in 
at  Mr.  Clarendon's  and  passed  the  evening ;  rarely,  how 
ever,  for  his  books  engrossed  him  ;  and  he  met  occasionally, 
at  Mr.  Clarendon's  dinners,  the  leading  men  of  the  State. 
Chancellor  De  Lolme,  too,  a  man  of  culture,  and  whose  ele 
gant  hospitality  was  well  known,  distinguished  as  his  house 
was  for  refinement,  induced  him  sometimes  to  accept  his  in 
vitations,  and  honored  him  by  marks  of  attention,  which  he 
always  bestowed  gracefully.  The  fine  manners  of  De  Vane, 
his  splendid  talents,  his  acquirements,  his  dignity  and  puri 
ty,  made  him  already  a  man  of  rank  ;  and  a  high  career  was 
predicted  for  him  by  the  eminent  men  in  whose  society  he 
appeared. 

Calling  one  evening  at  .Mr.  Clarendon's,  he  met  Mrs. 
Habersham  and  Miss  Godolphin,  who,  preferring  that  hour 
to  visit  Mrs.  Clarendon,  were  in  the  library.  De  Vane 
would  have  retired,  but  Mr.  Clarendon  would  take  no  ex 
cuse. 

"  Come,  De  Vane,"  said  he,  rising,  "  this  is  just  what  you 


114  DE  VANE. 

ought  to  do  every  evening.  These  ladies  you  know,  and  I 
intend  to  try  to  bring  them  to  my  aid,  in  inducing  you  to 
quit  your  books  in  the  evening,  and  give  some  of  your  hours 
to  your  friends." 

De  Vane  advanced  and  took  his  seat  with  the  ladies,  say 
ing  :  "  Really,  Mr.  Clarendon,  you  know  how  happy  I  am 
to  meet  friends,  as  you  do  me  the  honor  to  style  them,  when 
I  can  do  so." 

"  When  you  can  do  so,  indeed  !"  said  Mr.  Clarendon.  "  I 
assure  you,  ladies,  he  is  killing  himself.  Not  content  with 
the  light  which  day  gives  him,  he  robs  the  night,  and  may 
be  fairly  classed  among  the  sleepless." 

The  ladies  smiled,  and  Mr.  Clarendon  said  :  "  It  is  too 
true,  Mr.  De  Vane,  you  will  seriously  injure  your  health. 
Dr.  Dahlgreen  was  saying  only  yesterday,  that  you  must  be 
looked  after.  He  was  driving  past  your  lodgings  on  his  re 
turn  from  a  visit  to  a  patient  in  the  sand-hills  as  late  as  two 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  he  says  he  saw  your  two  sperm- 
candles  burning  in  the  window.  Shocking  !  and  there  can 
be  no  mistake  about  it.  Your  two  lights  betrayed  you  ; 
for  you  must  know,  ladies,  that  this  gentleman,  classical  as 
he  is,  disdains  the  lamp,  and  insists  that  two  candles  make 
the  only  light  fit  for  a  student." 

"  We  must  bribe  your  good  landlady,  Mrs.  Bowen,"  said 
Mrs.  Clarendon,  "  to  deprive  you  of  that  luxury." 

"  That  would  be  very  hard  to  do,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon, 
"  for  I  called  there  last  week  to  see  De  Vane.  He  had 
walked  out ;  and  upon  my  saying  to  Mrs.  Bowen  that  she 
must  not  permit  her  young  boarder  to  sit  up  so  late,  she 
said  that  it  was  a  great  pity,  but  that  she  had  never  known 
him  do  anything  but  what  was  right — that  he  was  abso 
lutely  perfect,  and  that  she  had  not  the  heart  to  interfere 
with  any  of  his  wishes.  So  I  very  meekly  bowed  my  way 
out,  glad  to  escape  some  mark  of  displeasure  for  my  imper- 


DE  VANE.  115 

The  ladies  laughed  heartily,  and -De  Vane  said:  "Mrs. 
Bowen  is  really  very  kind  to  me,  and  I  fear  that  I  give  her 
more  trouble  than  I  ought." 

"  She  has  not  prevailed  on  you  to  attend  church  yet  ?" 
asked  Mr.  Clarendon. 

"  No,"  said  De  Yane,  "  and  that  really  seems  to  grieve 
her." 

Turning  to  Miss  Godolphin,  he  said : 

"  Speaking  of  attending  church,  Miss  Godolphin,  reminds 
me  that  I  saw  you  at  the  Methodist  church,  when  Bishop 
McKendree  preached  there.  Did  you  like  him  ?" 

"  I  never  hea?d  a  sermon  that  affected  me  so  much,"  she 
replied.  "  If  he  were  residing  here,  I  should  attend  his 
church  constantly.  His  very  appearance  impresses  me 
strangely." 

"  It  is  very  striking,"  said  De  Vane  ;  "  and  his  conversa 
tion  has  for  me  a  perfect  charm." 

"  I  never  met  him  in  society,"  she  said  ;  "  I  should  be  de 
lighted  to  do  so.  My  aunt  and  myself  were  both  so  much 
captivated  by  him,  that  if  he  had  remained  longer  we  should 
have  called  on  him." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Habersham,  "  I  said  to  Miss  Words 
worth  that  she  should  have  sent  for  us  ;  and  that  if  we  had 
known  of  his  being  in  town  so  long,  we  should  not  have 
waited  for  an  invitation  to  call." 

"Have  you  met  Miss  Wordsworth  very  lately,  Mrs. 
Habersham?"  asked  Mrs.  Clarendon. 

"  Not  within  the  past  fortnight,"  she  replied. 

"  Nor  have  we.  She  must  be  out  of  town,  for  we  have 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  her  here  every  week  when  at  home." 

"  Do  you  know  her  well,  Mrs.  Clarendon  ?"  asked  Miss 
Godolphin. 

"  Oh  !  yes,"  she  replied  ; "  no  one  better.  And  she  is  such 
a  favorite  of  Mr.  Clarendon,  that  I  do  not  know  how  he  has 
suffered  two  weeks  to  pass  without  seeing  her." 


116  BE  TAKE. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  it's  hard  to  say  which  of  us 
loves  her  most." 

"And  you  permit  him  to  say  that,  Mrs.  Clarendon !"  said 
Miss  Godolphin,  smiling. 

"  Oh  !  yes,"  she  answered,  "  he  loves  Miss  Wordsworth, 
extravagantly,  I  should  say,  if  I  did  not  know  her  so  well." 

"  She  is  angelic,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon. 

"  She  is  very  beautiful,"  said  Miss  Godolphin.  "  I  never 
was  more  captivated  by  the  appearance  of  any  one.  I  met 
her  first  in  this  very  house,  and  I  at  once  felt  that  neither 
in  the  living  circles  of  Europe,  nor  in  the  picture-galleries 
which  adorn  its  palaces,  had  I  seen  so  lovely  a  person. 
Then,  too,  her  accomplishments  seem  to  equal  her  beauty." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  she  is  very  accomplished  ; 
her  music  is  nothing  short  of  wonderful.  Of  that  you  need 
not  be  informed,  however.  I  heard  your  tribute  to  her,  and 
I  saw  how  she  prized  it.  She  is  perfectly  enthusiastic  about 
you,  and  thinks  she  never  heard  anything  to  equal  your  per 
formance.  She  says  that  your  singing  is  unrivaled." 

"Ah !"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  the  dear,  generous  crea 
ture  !  She  ought  to  know  that  she  herself  is  peerless  in 
song.  Did  you,  Mr.  De  Vane,  ever  hear  any  thing  to  rival 
her  '  Walpurgisnacht '  ?" 

"  It  was  glorious,"  he  replied. 

"  Is  she  a  German  scholar  ?"  asked  Miss  Godolphin. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  a  thorough  one.  The  Duke 
of  Saxe- Weimar  conversed  with  her  for  a  half-hour  in  that 
language,  and  he  told  me  that  her  pronunciation  was  re 
markable  for  its  accuracy  and  purity." 

"It  is  wonderful,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "how  she  could 
have  acquired  it !  She  has  never  been  abroad,  I  suppose  ?" 

"  Never,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon  ;  "  but  she  has  had  the  best 
masters.  No  expense  has  been  spared  in  her  education. 
Her  own  fortune  is  large,  and  her  uncle,  Mr.  Springfield,  is 
wealthy  and  without  children  ;  so  that  every  thing  has  been 


DE  VANE.  117 

done,  that  could  be  accomplished,  to  educate  her  in  the 
highest  sense." 

"  I  learn,"  said  Mrs.  Habersham,  "  that  her  tastes  are 
peculiar.  It  is  said  that  she  has  founded  a  retreat  for  young 
orphan  girls,  and  that  she  actually  passes  much  of  her  time 
in  teaching  them." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  it  is  so.  A  finer  instance 
of  true  womanly  benevolence  I  have  never  witnessed.  I 
have  visited  the  '  Retreat ' — by  the  way,  it  is  called  '  Lea- 
sowes '  now,  after  Shenstone's  seat — and  a  more  beautiful 
and  attractive  place  I  do  not  know  on  earth.  Miss  Words 
worth  does  not  reside  there  ;  but  she  has  employed  a  re 
spectable  person,  admirably  fitted  for  the  place,  to  take 
charge  of  it ;  and  she  lives  in  Mr.  Springfield's  family.  De 
Vane,  did  you  ever  see  the  place,  in  your  rambles  about  tho 
town  ?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  De  Vane,  coloring ;  "  my  friend  Waring 
was  good  enough  to  take  me  there." 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  you  young  gentlemen  were 
entering  a  very  dangerous  place,  if  Miss  Wordsworth  hap 
pened  to  be  present.  I  should  say  that  Calypso's  famous 
retreat  was  nothing  to  it.  You  must  have  found  Waring 
very  useful,  in  the  way  of  a  Mentor,  to  help  you  break 
away." 

"  She  was  there,"  said  De  Vane,  smiling ;  "  but  we  did 
not  expect  to  find  her  at  home.  It  was  Saturday.  It  was 
an  extraordinary  scene.  Her  extreme  youth,  the  little  girls 
grouped  about  her,  and  the  surpassing  beauty  of  the  place — 
all  made  a  rare  picture." 

"  The  effect  very  much  heightened,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon, 
"  by  two  young  gentlemen  looking  on." 

"Really,  Mr.  Clarendon,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "you 
must  take  me  there." 

"  That  I  will,"  said  he,  heartily.  "  By  the  way,  De  Vane, 
when  do  you  look  for  Waring  ?" 


118  DE   VANE. 

"  Next  week,"  he  replied.  "  I  had  a  letter  from  him  this 
morning.  He  has  been  making  a  visit  to  his  sister." 

"  He  is  a  noble  fellow,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon ;  "  a  true 
man.  With  great  parts,  he  has  a  heart  as  generous  as  ever 
beat  in  a  man's  bosom ;  and  his  religion  absolutely  rises  into 
grandeur." 

"I  am  delighted,  Mr.  Clarendon,"  said  De  Vane,  "to 
hear  you  speak  of  him  in  such  terms.  I  wish  all  the  world 
knew  him  as  you  and  I  do." 

"  The  world  will  know  him,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon.  "  He 
is  destined  to  be  a  burning  and  a  shining  light." 

"  We  met  him  here,"  said  Miss  Godolphin.  "  I  very  well 
remember  him.  He  was  the  first-honor  man." 

"*Yes,"  said  De  Yane,  "  and  richly  deserved  to  be." 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  said  Mrs.  Habersham,  "  that  I  heard 
some  one  say  he  was  quite  devoted  to  Miss  Wordsworth. 
Is  it  so,  Mr.  Clarendon  ?  " 

"He  admires  her  beyond  measure,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon; 
"  but  I  do  not  know  that  there  is  any  thing  beyond  that." 

"I  am  quite  sure,"  said  Mrs!  Clarendon,  "that  Miss 
Wordsworth  is  free.  She  is,  you  know,  very  young,  just 
seventeen,  and  she  has  never  loved." 

Miss  Godolphin  fixed  her  large  dark  eyes  on  Mrs.  Cla 
rendon's  face,  and  seemed  to  be  about  to  speak,  but  she 
checked  herself,  and  said  nothing.  De  Vane  observed  her 
emotion ;  he  could  not  comprehend  it. 

"  Are  you  very  sure  ?"  said  Mrs.  Habersham.  "  Very 
young  persons  sometimes  feel  the  fatal  passion." 

"  I  am  very  sure,"  said  Mrs.  Clarendon.  "  Esther  Words 
worth  has  never  loved.  When  she  does  love,  if  that  should 
ever  happen,  it  will  be  for  always." 

"  Is  she  ardent  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Habersham. 

"  Her  nature  is  one  of  great  depth,"  said  Mrs.  Clarendon ; 
"  and  she  adheres  with  tenacity  to  any  purpose  which  she 
forms." 


DE   VANE.  119 

"Miss  Godolphin,  are  you  ill?"  exclaimed  Mr.  Claren 
don. 

She  was  deadly  pale,  and  seemed  about  to  fall  from  her 
chair,  but  she  rallied  instantly,  and  the  rich  warm  blood, 
returning  from  her  heart,  rushed  to  her  temples. 

"No,"  she  replied,  in  a  voice  whose  mournful  depth 
startled  De  Yane. 

A  servant  entered  the  room  with  refreshments ;  and  Mr. 
Clarendon,  filling  a  glass  with  wine,  handed  it  to  Miss  Go- 
dolphin,  and  said : 

"  Let  us,  Miss  Horteusia,  take  some  Madeira  together ;  it 
is  a  generous  wine,  and  will  strengthen  you."  He  bowed 
to  her,  and  as  she  replaced  the  glass,  she  said : 

"  I  must  see  more  of  your  friend  Miss  Wordsworth,  Mr. 
Clarendon.  I  must  know  her." 

"  She  will,  I  am  sure,  be  happy  to  make  you  her  friend, 
Miss  Hortensia,"  he  said. 

"  As  to  Waring,  the  fellow  has  been  so  busy  with  books, 
that  I  don't  think  he  has  ever  thought  about  loving  any  one. 
He  has  known  Miss  Wordsworth  for  some  years,  certainly 
ever  since  he  entered  college ;  for  he  has  been  intimate  with 
Mr.  Springfield  from  the  time  of  his  first  coming  to  pursue 
his  studies  here.  You  must  permit  me  to  show  him  the  way 
to  your  house,  Mrs.  Habersham." 

"  We  shall  be  most  happy  to  see  him,"  she  replied. 

"  And  what  do  you  say,  Miss  Hortensia  ?  Will  you  be 
merciful  to  my  young  friend  ?" 

"  Oh !  yes,"  she  said,  smiling,  half  sadly ;  "  he  will  have 
nothing  to  fear  from  me." 

"  Nothing  to  fear  from  you !"  said  Mr.  Clarendon ;  "  Pray, 
why  not  ?  A  more  dangerous  person  it  would  be  hard  to 
find." 

"  Ah !  Mr.  Clarendon,"  she  said,  "  I  am  very,  very  far 
from  being  dangerous.  I  have  no  faith  in  the  grand  passion. 
Your  sex  are  swayed  by  ambition ;  and  as  for  ours,  I  shall 


120  DE  VANE. 

not  undertake  to  interpret  their  souls.     Did  you  see  the 
Sphinx  when  you  were  traveling  ?" 

"  No,"  said  he,  "  but  I  saw  woman  in  marble,  every 
where,  and  in  every  form  I  read  the  soul,  beneath  the  cold 
outlines.  Depend  upon  it,  Miss  Godolphin,  a  woman's 
heart  never  dies ;  and  as  to  a  young  and  beautiful  woman, 
talking  of  impassibility  it  is  quite  as  rational  as  to  suppose 
the  harp  is  voiceless,  which  only  waits  for  some  hand  to 
sweep  its  chords,  that  is  skilled  in  music." 

Miss  Godolphiu's  eyes  were  fathomless  in  their  dark 
depths.  She  said : 

"  May  not  the  strings  of  the  harp  be  broken  ?" 

"  They  are  often  hung  upon  the  willows,  from  sadness," 
he  replied ;  "  but  when  love  informs  the  soul,  then  they  are 
swiftly  snatched  from  the  melancholy  boughs,  and  made  to 
discourse  most  eloquent  music." 

"  Love,  Mr.  Clarendon  !  it  is  a  myth." 

"  You  are  all  the  more  dangerous,"  he  said,  "  for  teaching 
tha.t  doctrine.  You  beguile  your  victims.  Unconscious  of 
danger,  they  are  helplessly  ensnared  before  they  see  the 
fetters." 

"  You  know  nothing  about  it,"  she  replied,  "  and  shall 
not  persuade  me  to  accept  your  philosophy." 

She  spoke  playfully ;  but  De  Vane,  who  observed  her, 
felt  that  some  indefinable  sadness  reigned  within  her.  He 
could  not  comprehend  it.  Young,  splendidly  beautiful,  ac 
complished,  full  of  intellect  and  soul,  she  was  as  sad  as 
Jephthah's  daughter  upon  the  mountains  of  Israel. 

"  At  all  events,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  I  shall  leave 
Waring  to  take  care  of  himself.  I  shall  observe  the  process 
with  interest.  It  will  be  a  study  full  of  instruction,  even  for 
a  married  man." 

All  laughed  heartily,  except  Miss  Godolphin,  who  smiled, 
but  said  nothing. 

"  You  know,  Miss  Hortensia,"  said  Mrs.  Clarendon,  "  that 


DE   VANE.  121 

before  you  left  us  for  your  travels  in  Europe,  Mr.  Clarendon 
admired  you,  and  you  are  still  a  great  favourite.  He  will 
not  spare  his  friends." 

Mr.  Clarendon  assumed  an  air  of  great  surprise,  and  said : 

"  How  have  I  offended  ?  Does  it  occur  to  you,  Mr.  De 
Yane,  that  I  have  said  any  thing  out  of  the  way,  in  pro 
nouncing  young  ladies — captivating  ?" 

"  I  am  afraid,"  said  De  Yane,  "  to  hazard  an  opinion  upon 
so  grave  a  question,  without  bestowing  some  reflection 
upon  it." 

"  Ah !  non-committal.  Well,  that  has  become  so  much 
the  fashion  in  politics,  that  the  young  gentlemen  are  all 
falling  into  it." 

The  ladies  rose  to  take  their  leave,  and  the  gentlemen 
handed  them  to  the  carriage.  The  spirited  horses  dashed 
off.  De  Yane  bowed,  and  walked  away  to  his  lodgings. 
He  could  not  withdraw  his  thoughts  from  Miss  Godolphin 
her  glorious  beauty,  her  sadness,  her  emotion  when  allusion 
was  made  to  an  all-engrossing  passion,  and  a  life-long  attach 
ment — all  this  interested  him  in  her.  He  had  met  her  but 
rarely,  and  this  evening  she  had  impressed  him  deeply.  The 
interest  which  he  felt  in  her  was  indefinable.  She  was  very 
unlike  Esther.  Both  were  lovely — both  accomplished  ;  the 
one  was  as  pure  as  an  angel  which  had  never  passed  the 
bounds  of  Paradise,  the  other  might  be  an  angel  just  return 
ing  from  some  ministering  office,  which  had  touched  her 
celestial  spirit  with  sadness. 
6 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

"  HK  has  been  dreaming  of  old  heroic  stories, 

And  the  poet's  world  has  entered  in  his  soul ; 
He  has  grown  conscious  of  life's  ancestral  glories, 
When  sages  and  when  kings  first  upheld  the  mind's  control. 

When  will  he  awaken  ? 
Asks  the  midnight's  stately  queen." 

Awakening  of  Endymion. 

UNHEEDING  the  remonstrances  of  friends,  De  Yane  still 
pursued  his  studies.  Still  his  light  burned  in  his  room  until 
long  past  midnight ;  and  passers-by  remarked  it.  History, 
politics,  metaphysics,  engrossed  him.  The  pictured  pages  of 
Livy  fired  his  ambition ;  and  he  reviewed  with  delight  the 
early  history  of  that  wonderful  people  whose  empire,  begin 
ning  upon  the  Tiber,  grew  until  it  overspread  the  world. 
The  politics  of  the  world,  too,  interested  him,  and  he  sought, 
in  history,  to  discern  the  great  principles  which  might 
enable  him  better  to  comprehend  the  merits  of  the  great 
struggle  going  on  throughout  the  country.  What  consti 
tuted  the  real  wealth  of  a  nation,  or  contributed  to  its  true 
glory,  he  searched  for ;  and,  rising  above  the  small  consider 
ations  which  swayed  so  many  about  him,  he  investigated  the 
philosophy  of  statesmanship.  Metaphysics  he  delighted  in. 
He  had  gone  over  the  whole  field  of  the  modern  school  in 
his  senior  year,  but  he  now  explored  the  wider  range  of 
speculative  philosophy,  and  was  deep  in  the  Serbonian  bog 
of  fathomless  disputation.  The  brilliant  papers  of  Heine 
fascinated  him ;  the  sombre,  cheerless  philosophy  of  Leib 
nitz  involved  him  in  the  toils  of  fatalism ;  and  the  subtle 

(122} 


DE  VANE.  123 

disquisitions  of  Bolingbroke  captivated  him.  The  cold  un 
belief  of  the  first  of  these  writers  troubled  him ;  for,  with 
an  ardent  nature,  he  desired  to  believe  and  trust.  He  could 
not  look  out  upon  the  universe  and  pronounce  it  unmeaning ; 
nor  could  he  tolerate  the  thought  that  humanity  was  in  a 
state  of  orphanage.  He  looked  upon  the  world  in  its  glo 
rious  beauty  of  hill  and  dale,  and  mountain  and  valley,  and 
ocean  and  plain,  smiling  with  summer  verdure,  or  grand 
with  the  splendors  of  winter  ;  or  to  the  heavens  in  their  im 
mensity,  through  which  the  countless  orbs  rushed  with  so 
much  velocity,  and  yet  so  much  order ;  and  he  could  not 
consent  to  yield  up  his  early  belief  that  upon  the  throne  of 
the  universe  there  was  seated  a  God  of  boundless  benevo 
lence.  Still  he  was  troubled.  He  comprehended  the  deep 
yearning  of  the  spirit  for  the  right  way.  He  felt,  with  Plato, 
"that  every  soul  is  unwillingly  deprived  of  truth."  De 
prived  of  truth  he  would  not  be,  if  he  could  succeed  in  ex 
ploring  the  wilderness  about  him,  and  find  the  way  lighted 
by  the  Divinity.  His  consciousness  assured  him  of  the  ex 
istence  of  his  soul.  Was  that  soul  immortal  ?  The  dread 
question  which  troubled  Job  haunted  him :  "  Is  there  not 
an  appointed  time  to  man  upon  earth  ?  Are  not  his  days 
also  like  the  days  of  an  hireling  ?" 

And  then  came  the  response  of  the  patriarch  to  his  own 
question  :  "  If  a  man  die,  shall  he  live  again  ?"  Here  was 
the  great  cry  of  the  soul  which  had  been  heard  on  the  plains 
of  the  east  so  long  ago,  uttered  once  more. 

"  Mr.  De  Vane,"  said  Mrs.  Bowen,  "  you  are  not  looking 
well.  I  think  you  study  too  hard."  De  Vane  was  at  the 
breakfast-table.  He  had  been  up  very  late  the  night  before, 
and  his  long  course  of  study  began  to  tell  upon  his  health. 
Young,  vigorous,  and  active  as  he  was,  he  was  becoming 
thin,  and  his  face  had  lost  its  color.  His  large  dark  eyes 
seemed  to  increase  in  depth  and  splendor,  and  his  appetite 
was  gone. 


124  DE   VANE. 

Mrs.  Bowen  had,  forborne  as  long  as  her  kind  nature 
would  permit  her  to  forbear.  She  loved  the  young  student 
as  if  he  had  been  her  son ;  and  her  eyes  filled  with  tears  as 
she  saw  him  this  morning,  seated  at  the  table,  languid  and 
thoughtful. 

De  Yane  smiled,  and  said :  "  Why,  Mrs.  Bowen,  would 
you  have  me  indulge  myself — you  who  are  so  active  and 
so  busy  ?" 

"  No,  Mr.  De  Vane,"  she  replied,  "  there  is  no  danger  of 
that.  You  will  never  indulge  yourself ;  but  you  must  spare 
yourself.  Young  people  ought  not  to  break  themselves 
down.  When  they  get  older  and  stronger,  then  they  can 
bear  more." 

"  But  I  am  not  working  very  hard.  There  is  so  much  to 
learn,  that  I  am  trying  to  do  something  while  I  am  young." 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  but  you  see  Solomon  says  that  much  study  is 
a  weariness  to  the  flesh  ;  and  he  knew  all  about  it.  There, 
you  have  eaten  scarcely  any  thing  at  all — one  egg,  but  one 
biscuit,  and  half  a  cup  of  coffee.  Why,  that  would  not  do 
for  a  child." 

De  Vane  smiled  and  said  :  "  Never  mind,  Mrs.  Bowen.  I 
will  make  up  for  it  yet.  I  must  take  a  little  more  exercise, 
and  then  I  shall  eat  like  a  mountaineer,  as  I  am." 

"  It  was  only  last  week,"  said  Mrs.  Bowen,  "  that  Mr. 
Clarendon  scolded  me  for  letting  you  sit  up  so  late,  and 
yesterday  I  was  at  Mr.  Springfield's,  and  Mrs.  Springfield 
asked  about  you,  and  said  she  was  afraid  you  were  not  well, 
and  that  she  understood  from  Dr.  Dahlgreeu  that  you  were 
killing  yourself  with  books." 

"Indeed!"  said  DeVane.  "Was  Mrs.  Springfield  kind 
enough  to  ask  after  me  ?" 

"  Certainly  she  did,"  said  Mrs.  Bowen.  "  And  she  said 
that  Miss  Wordsworth  was  going  on  in  the  same  way ;  for, 
after  passing  nearly  the  whole  day  at  her  little  school,  she 
would  sit  up  half  the  night,  studying." 


DE  VANE.  125 

DeVane  felt  the  blood  rising  to  his  face.  He  had  not 
seen  Esther  since  Waring  left  the  town,  and  this  sudden 
mention  of  her  name  in  connection  with  his  own  by  Mrs. 
Bowen,  in  her  kindness  of  heart,  bringing  the  strictures  of 
Mrs.  Springfield  to  her  support,  recalled  her  so  vividly,  that 
he  was  conscious  of  a  very  indefinable  sensation." 

"  I  hope  Miss  Wordsworth's  health  has  not  suffered,"  he 
said,  looking  earnestly  at  Mrs.  Bowen. 

"  She  says  not ;  for  she  was  sitting  by  when  Mrs.  Spring 
field  spoke  to  me,  and  she  was  looking  as  beautiful  as  I  ever 
saw  her.  .  She  is  as  good,  too,  as  she  is  pretty." 

"  Why,  Mrs.  Bowen,  you  are  actually  becoming  poetical 
in  your  descriptions.  One  of  the  very  finest  tributes  ever 
paid  to  a  lady  has  that  very  thought  in  it : 

*  Yes ;  she  is  good  as  she  is  fair.' " 

"  Well,  Miss  Wordsworth  deserves  it,"  said  Mrs.  Bowen. 
"  If  I  did  not  know  that  no  human  being  can  be  perfect, 
I  should  say  she  is.  If  she  has  a  fault,  it  has  never  been 
discovered.  Yet  her  whole  life  is  spent  in  doing  good. 
Taking  care  of  little  orphan  girls,  most  people  would  think 
was  enough  ;  but  she  visits  the  sick,  and  helps  the  poor 
besides.  For  about  two  weeks  she  has  been  nursing  Mrs. 
Gildersleeve's  daughter,  who  is  dying  of  consumption." 
"  But  could  no  one  be  found  to  take  her  place  ?" 
"  No  ;  no  one  can  take  her  place,  Mr.  De  Vane.  Little 
Eva  Gildersleeve  was  one  of  her  Sunday-school  scholars,  and 
now  about  twelve  years  old ;  but  she  is  dying,  and  she  clings 
to  Miss  Wordsworth  as  if  she  was  the  only  person  in  all 
the  world  that  could  do  her  any  good.  And  to  hear  her 
talk  to  that  child  about  Jesus,  and  about  heaven,  as  I  did, 
day  before  yesterday,  is  better  than  a  sermon.  I  thought  I 
could  almost  hear  the  rustling  of  angels'  wings  in  the 


126  DE  VANE. 

Mrs.  Bowen's  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and  De  Vane  was 
impressed  with  the  fine  expression  of  her  matronly  face,  as 
she  uttered  the  beautiful  tribute  to  Miss  Wordsworth,  un 
conscious  of  the  exquisite  picture  she  had  painted — a  pic 
ture  worthy  of  the  pencil  of  Raphael — this  young,  bright, 
accomplished  woman,  ministering  to  a  dying  girl,  in  a  way 
so  comforting  and  tender,  as  to  make  the  spectator  feel  that 
angels  must  press  forward  to  witness  the  scene. 

This,  then,  accounted  for  her  absence  from  society ;  this 
explained  why  Mrs.  Clarendon  had  not  seen  her  for  the 
two  weeks  past.  He  said  nothing.  He  rose  from  the  table, 
and  walked  out  into  the  streets ;  but  through  every  hour  of 
that  day,  and  for  many  days  afterward,  did  he  recall  the 
scene  which  Mrs.  Bowen  had  described. 

The  next  day  Waring  returned.  He  came  in  the  evening 
coach  ;  and,  very  soon  after  his  arrival,  he  walked  to  Mrs. 
Bowen's,  and  inquired  for  De  Vane. 

Mrs.  Bowen  welcomed  him  warmly.  Waring  was  a 
great  favorite,  and  she  really  venerated  him,  young  as  he 
was. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Waring,"  she  said,  "  I'm  glad  you've  come. 
We've  all  missed  you ;  and  as  for  Mr.  De  Vane,  since  you 
left,  he  has  hardly  gone  out  at  all.  He  does  nothing  but 
study  from  morning  till  night ;  till  night  indeed — I  might 
say  till  the  next  morning." 

"Ah  !"  said  Waring,  "  I  must  look  after  him ;  is  he  in  ?" 

"  No,"  she  replied ;  "  this  is  the  only  time,  in  the  day 
when  he  takes  a  walk.  But  he'll  be  in  very  soon  ;  it's  nearly 
supper-time,  and  he  never  keeps  me  waiting.  Come  in,  and 
stay  to  supper." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Waring,  "  I  will  do  so,"  frankly  ac 
cepting  the  hearty  invitation.  "  And  I  must  beg  you  too," 
said  he,  "to  consent  to  take  me  as  a  boarder.  You  can 
spare  me  a  room,  and  I  shall  try  to  help  you  take  care  of 
De  Vane." 


DE   VANE.  127 

Mrs.  Bo  wen's  face  brightened. 

"  You  know,"  she  replied,  "  I  have  hardly  ever  taken  any 
one  to  board.  Sometimes  two  or  three  little  girls,  who 
come  here  to  go  to  school,  and  whose  parents  will  make  me 
take  them ;  but  when  Mr.  De  Vane  came  and  told  me  how 
he  hated  to  stay  at  a  hotel,  and  how  he  wished  to  be  quiet, 
I  took  him.  Opposite  to  his  room  there  is  one  just  as 
large,  and  if  that  will  suit  you,  you  know  that  there  is  no 
one  in  the  world  I  would  rather  have  than  yourself.  And 
as  to  Mr.  De  Vane,  he  will  be  delighted,  I  know.  He  told 
me  when  he  came  to  keep  it,  and  said  he  would  pay  for  it 
just  as  if  some  one  was  in  it ;  but  he  preferred  to  have  it 
vacant,  until  some  friend  of  his  came  to  take  it.  He  did 
not  say  who  it  was.  I  told  him  he  ought  not  to  do  that,  but 
he  said  I  must  let  him  have  the  room,  and  that  it  would  do 
him  a  great  favor." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Waring ;  "  that's  all  right.  I'll  settle 
that  matter  with  De  Vane.  I'll  take  the  room  for  my 
own,  and  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you,  Mrs.  Bowen,  for 
your  kindness  in  consenting  to  be  troubled  with  me." 

"  Troubled  indeed !"  said  she.  "  If  people  in  this  world 
gave  no  more  trouble  than  you  and  Mr.  De  Vane  do,  I 
would  think  the  millennium  had  come." 

Waring  laughed,  and  the  good  old  lady  busied  herself  in 
preparation  for  tea. 

Soon  after,  De  Vane's  step  was  heard  in  the  hall ;  and, 
opening  the  door,  he  walked  into  the  room. 

" Mehercule !  Waring,"  said  he;  "where  did  you  drop 
from,  old  fellow  ?  I'm  delighted  to  see  you." 

"  Not  from  the  clouds,"  said  Waring,  "  like  another  class 
ical  friend  of  yours,  or  I  should,  like  him,  have  broken  my 
leg.  As  it  is,  I  am  only  very  much  bruised  by  beating  about 
in  a  stage-coach  from  Augusta." 

"  You  have  been  gone  an  age,"  said  De  Vane,  "  and  de 
serve  to  be  bruised  for  staying  so  long." 


128  DE  VANE* 

"  But,  see  here,  De  Vane,"  said  Waring,  "  what  is  the 
matter  with  you  ?  You  are  thin  and  .pale.  What  have 
you  been  doing  with  yourself  ?" 

"  Nothing,"  said  De  Vane.  "  I  suppose  I  have  not  walked 
as  much  as  I  was  accustomed  to  do,  when  we  took  out 
strolls  together.  Now  that  you  are  here,  I  shall  do  bet 
ter." 

"Yes,"  said  Waring,  "  I  intend  to  see  to  that.  My  good 
friend,  Mrs.  Bowen,  here,  says  that  I  may  have  that  room 
opposite  yours,  which,  I  take  it  for  granted,  you  intended  I 
should  have  from  the  beginning." 

"  Why,  in  all  candor,  Waring,  I  am  heartily  glad  that 
you  take  it,  but  I  acted  upon  the  plan  of  Englishmen  upon 
the  Continent.  I'm  told  that  to  make  sure  of  their  comfort, 
when  they  find  a  pleasant  hotel,  they  engage  all  the  rooms 
on  the  same  floor,  so  as  to  exclude  all  comers,  except  some 
people  who  may  happen  to  be  agreeable  to  them.  The  room 
is  yours,  of  course.  When  will  you  take  possession  ?" 

"  To-morrow ;  if  Mrs.  Bowen  will  suffer  me  to  do  so  ?" 

"  Oh !  yes,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Bowen ;  "  it  can  be  put  in  or 
der  to-morrow  morning.  It  is  already  pretty  well  furnished, 
and  any  thing  else  that  you  want  I  will  get  for  you." 

"I  think,  Waring,"  said  De  Vane,  "I  shall  transfer,  if 
you  will  permit,  sundry  articles  from  my  own  room.  I  have 
been  indulging  my  taste  in  selecting  articles  from  time  to 
time,  until  I  can  hardly  turn  around  in  my  room  ;  and,  with 
other  things,  I  selected,  the  other  day,  a  melodeon,  which 
has  not  yet  been  sent  home.  You  must  take  charge  of  that, 
and  I  shall  charge  you  for  the  use  of  it  by  making  you  in 
struct  me,  as  you  did  during  our  summer  vacation." 

"  You  see,  Mrs.  Bowen,"  said  Waring,  "  that  he  intends 
to  make  me  a  music-teacher  forthwith." 

"You  must  take  away  some  of  his  books,"  said  Mrs. 
Bowen.  "  Mr.  Clarendon  told  me  to  do  it,  but  I  was  afraid 
to  trouble  him." 


DE   VANE.  129 

"  I'll  attend  to  his  case,"  said  Waring.  They  sat  down 
to  supper,  and  two  little  girls,  from  ten  to  twelve  years  of 
age,  took  their  seats  with  them.  It  was  a  round,  cheerful 
table,  loaded  with  luxuries,  for  Mrs.  Bo  wen  was  a  famous 
housekeeper. 

Waring  asked  a  blessing. 

It  had  been  many  months  since  Mrs.  Bowen  was  so  hap 
py  ;  and  in  her  heart  she  sent  up  a  thanksgiving  to  the  Lord, 
for  spreading  sunshine  through  her  house.  She  had  a  com 
petency,  and  was  childless.  A  woman  of  good  sense  and 
good  breeding,  she  was  highly  respected,  and  saw  the 
best  society  in  the  town.  She  was  a  fervent  Christian, 
too,  abounding  in  good  works ;  and  the  young  and  the  old 
loved  her  for  her  gentleness  and  kindness.  She  was  espe 
cially  a  favorite  with  Mr.  Clarendon,  who  often  declared, 
that  when  he  felt  at  all  depressed,  he  would  walk  to  Mrs. 
Bowen's  to  get  her  to  cheer  him. 

Her  house  was  always  cheerful.  If  there  was  a  single  ray 
of  sunshine  breaking  through  the  clouds,  it  somehow  fell 
on  her.  She  loved  Esther  as  she  loved  no  one  else  on 
earth ;  and  often  accompanied  her  on  her  visits  to  the  sick 
and  the  poor. 

It  was  at  the  special  request  of  Mr.  Clarendon  that  she 
took  De  Vane  as  a  boarder ;  and  the  young  student  had 
already  become  strongly  attached  to  her.  His  ample  for 
tune  enabled  him  to  gratify  his  tastes,  and  with  great  deli 
cacy  he  often  supplied  luxuries  which  he  persuaded  her  no 
one  could  find  so  well  as  himself. 

More  than  once,  he  had  enabled  her  to  relieve  cases  of 
suffering  by  supplying  means  just  at  the  moment  when 
they  were  needed.  Now  that  Waring  had  come,  she  felt 
that  her  happiness  was  complete,  for  she  loved  him  next 
to  Esther. 

"  How  is  my  friend  Mr.  Springfield,  Mrs.  Bowen  ?"  asked 
Waring. 

6* 


130  DE  VANE. 

"  Very  well,  sir.  He  was  speaking  of  you  a  few  days 
since,  and  said  that  you  staid  longer  than  he  supposed 
you  would ;  but  that  he  hoped  to  see  you  soon." 

"  I'm  very  much  obliged  to  him.  I  found  that  my  affairs 
in  Georgia  required  my  attention.  The  Conference  was  in 
session  a  week." 

"  So  I  heard,  from  Mr.  Arthur." 

"  Ah  !  yes.     How  do  you  like  that  appointment  ?" 

"  Oh  !  we  are  all  pleased,"  said  Mrs.  Bowen.  "  You  know 
that  he  is  a  great  favorite  here,  and  his  congregations  are 
very  large.  The  old  church  will  hardly  hold  them." 

"  I  supposed  it  would  be  so — he  is  really  a  very  fine 
preacher.  He  has  a  way  of  reaching  the  heart,  that  gives 
him  access  to  it  before  you  know  it." 

"  Mr.  Springfield  is  very  much  pleased  with  the  appoint 
ment,"  said  Mrs.  Bowen;  "you  know  they  are  good 
friends." 

"  Yes,"  said  Waring ;  "  intimate  as  brothers." 

"  And  Miss  Wordsworth,"  said  Mrs.  Bowen,  "  she  says 
that  he  writes  as  well  as  he  preaches.  He  has  written  for 
our  new  paper,  and  she  is  very  much  pleased  with  his  let 
ters.  You  know  that  she  is  a  judge  of  such  things." 

"  Indeed  she  is,"  said  Waring,  "  and  I  agree  with  her. 
The  truth  is,  he  has  one  of  the  best  libraries  that  I  know ; 
in  fact,  the  very  best  that  I  know  belonging  to  a  travel 
ing  preacher.  Have  you  heard  him,  De  Yane,  since  he 
came  ?" 

"  No,"  said  De  Vane.  "  I  have  not  been  in  a  church 
since  you  left  me." 

"Really,  Mrs.  Bowen,"  said  Waring,  "we  must  look 
after  this  young  Yirginian.  He  is  far  from  home,  and  we 
must  try  to  induce  him  to  return  to  his  early  habits." 

"  I  like  to  hear  good  preaching,"  said  De  Vane,  "  and 
will  go  with  you  sometimes  with  pleasure,  to  hear  this 
gentleman  who  is  so  highly  esteemed  by  you.  If  you  and 


DE   VANE.  131 

Mrs.  Bowen  and  Mr.  Springfield  think  so  well  of  him,  I 
am  sure  that  he  must  be  worth  hearing." 

"  He  began,  to  preach  at  eighteen,"  said  Waring,  "  and 
has  been  a  hard  student  ever  since.  He  is  sometimes  as 
eloquent  as  Jeremy  Taylor,  and  yet  is  perfectly  unaf 
fected." 

Some  time  after,  Waring  rose,  and  saying  to  Mrs.  Bow- 
en  that  he  would  come  back  in  the  morning,  proposed  to 
return  to  his  hotel. 

De  Vane  accompanied  him,  and  they  entered  into  a  con 
versation  about  their  plans  for  the  future.  It  was  War- 
ing's  purpose  now  to  enter  upon  his  theological  studies; 
and  his  plan  embraced  a  two  years'  course.  The  large 
library  of  Mr.  Springfield  was  open  to  him,  and  he  should 
enjoy  the  instructions  of  that  gentleman,  and  of  Mr.  Ar^ 
thur,  the  minister  just  appointed  to  the  station.  Licensed 
already  to  exhort,  it  was  his  purpose  to  engage,  as  exten 
sively  as  possible,  in  the  duties  of  that  office,  while  pur 
suing  his  regular  course  of  study.  There  was  not  the 
slightest  cant  about  him,  but  he  spoke  seriously,  and  even 
earnestly,  about  his  work — its  duties,  responsibilities,  and 
encouragements. 

"  Have  you  seen  Mr.  Springfield  within  a  few  days,  De 
Vane?" 

"  ISTo,"  said  he.  "  I  have  scarcely  made  any  visits  since 
you  left  me." 

"  He  expressed  a  strong  interest  in  you,"  said  Waring, 
"  and  you  ought  to  see  as  much  of  him  as  possible.  He  is 
a  thorough  scholar — a  man  of  extraordinary  breadth  of 
view,  and  one  of  the  most  delightful  men  in  conversation 
that  I  have  ever  met." 

"I  am  very  strongly  disposed  to  like  him,"  said  De 
Yane,  "  and  I  have  the  greatest  respect  for  him ;  but  the 
truth  is,  I  hardly  know  how  I  have  spent  the  time  that 
has  elapsed  since  you  took  your  departure.  How  long  has 
it  been  ?" 


132  DE  VANE. 

"  Six  weeks,  to  a  day,"  said  Waring. 

"  Is  it  possible  ?  "  exclaimed  De  Vane.  "  It  seemed  an 
age  when  I  thought  of  you ;  but  I  did  not  know  that  the 
winter  was  so  nearly  gone." 

"Yes,"  said  Waring;  "spring  is  almost  here.  How 
swiftly  the  winter  has  gone  by !  It  will  soon  belong  to 
the  past.  Do  you  remember,  De  Vane,  the  address  of 
Apollo  to  Mnemosyne  ? 

'  I  can  read 
A  wondrous  lesson  in  thy  silent  face.'  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  De  Vane,  "  memory  is  silent,  but  a  pow 
erful  teacher." 

"Do  you  hear  any  thing  of  Miss  Wordsworth  these 
days  ?"  asked  Waring. 

"  Only  through  Mrs.  Bowen,"  he  said.  "  She  was  de 
scribing  to  me  yesterday  a  scene  which  was  so  exquisitely 
touching  and  beautiful,  that  it  has  been  before  me  ever 
since.  It  seems,  that  for  some  two  weeks  past,  she  has 
been  watching  by  the  side  of  a  little  girl  dying  of  con 
sumption." 

"  Did  you  hear  the  name  of  the  child  ?"  asked  Waring. 

"  Eva  Gildersleeve.     I  was  struck  with  its  beauty. 

"Ah!"  said  Waring,  "I  have  been  looking  for  that 
through  the  winter,  but  she  must  have  declined  very  rapid, 
ly,  to  be  in  a  dying  state.  She  is  one  of  the  brightest  little 
creatures  on  earth.  I  know  her  well.  I  must  call  and  see 
her  before  it  is  too  late.  De  Vane,  you  will  excuse  me  ?" 

"  Certainly  ;  but  you  will  not  go  to-night  ?" 

"Without  a  moment's  delay,"  said  Waring,  and  De 
Vane,  taking  leave  of  him,  returned  to  his  lodgings. 

Waring  walked  rapidly  to  the  house  where  the  little 
girl  was  waiting  for  death.  It  was  a  small,  neat  house, 
with  a  garden  in  front,  and  through  the  closed  blinds 
\Varing  saw  a  light  shining  cheerfully.  He  knocked  at 


DE   VANE.  133 

the  door,  and  it  was  opened  by  Mrs.  Gildersleeve,  who  in 
stantly  recognized  him  and  invited  him  in. 

He  entered  the  room  where  Eva's  little  bed  was  placed, 
and  in  which  a  cheerful  fire  was  burning.  No  one  was 
present  but  an  old  colored  servant  belonging  to  Mr.  Spring 
field.  Aunt  Hester — as  she  was  called — was  seated  near 
the  bed.  She  was  an  excellent  nurse,  and  her  qualities 
were  invaluable.  She  knew  Waring  well,  and  often  de 
clared  that  he  was  "a  saint  on  earth."  She  was  of  that 
class  of  servants  so  rarely  met  with  now  ;  faithful,  strong 
ly  attached  to  the  family  of  her  master,  humble,  cheerful, 
and  feeling  as  deep  an  interest  in  the  welfare  of  the  family 
as  if  every  thing  belonged  to  her. 

She  rose  when  the  young  gentleman  entered  the  room, 
and  her  face  showed  the  pleasure  which  his  coming  gave 
her. 

"How  are  you,  Aunt  Hester?"  said  Waring,  frankly  ex 
tending  his  hand  to  her. 

"  Thank  the  Lord  !  Master  Waring,  I'm  well,"  she  said, 
with  a  low  courtesy. 

Waring  walked  to  the  bedside.  The  little  girl  was 
sleeping.  Her  fair  hair  fell  in  natural  ringlets  about  her 
face ;  the  delicate  features  were  as  clear  as  if  cut  from  mar 
ble,  and  the  lips,  slightly  parted,  disclosed  the  fine  regular 
teeth.  Even  in  sleep  the  face  was  full  of  expression,  and 
it  was  luminous,  as  if  some  unseen  being  whispered  in  her 
ear  words  which  thrilled  her.  Waring  looked  down 
silently  into  her  face,  and  the  tears,  trembling  for  a  mo 
ment  on  his  eyelids,  stole  down  his  cheeks. 

"  So  He  giveth  his  beloved  sleep,"  he  said,  almost  un 
consciously. 

Turning  away  from  the  bed,  he  took  a  seat  near  Mrs. 
Gildersleeve,  and  inquired  if  there  were  any  one  to  sit  up 
with  the  child  through  the  night. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  she  replied,  "Miss  Wordsworth  will  be  here 


134  DE   VANE. 

presently.  She  comes  every  night,  for  Eva  will  ask  for 
her  if  she  does  not  find  her  by  her  side.  I  do  not  know 
how  she  keeps  up,  sir,  for  she  has  been  here  every  night 
for  two  weeks,  except  one,  and  she  scarcely  sleeps  at  all." 

"  Could  I  not  relieve  her  ?"  asked  Waring. 

" I  fear  not,  sir,"  she  said.  "I  wish  some  one  could,  for 
it  distresses  me  to  see  that  young  lady  wearing  herself 
out.  She  is  an  angel  on  earth,  Mr.  Waring." 

He  made  no  reply,  but  sat  quietly  watching  the  face  of 
the  sleeper.  How  impressive  is  such  sleep  !  In  all  the 
wide  realm  of  nature,  there  is  nothing  so  touching  as-  the 
face  of  a  child  in  sleep  !  The  unconsciousness,  the  helpless 
ness,  the  coming  future,  with  its  trials,  its  temptations,  its 
sufferings,  its  perils  !  Who  that  has  bent  over  the  forms 
of  his  own  sleeping  children  has  not  experienced  unutter 
able  emotions?  Who  has  not  felt  an  indefinable  sadness 
as  he  thinks  of  the  wide,  hard,  dreadful  road  which  those 
little  feet  must  tread  till  they  stop  at  the  grave,  where  the 
weary  head  is  to  be  laid  down  in  the  long,  long  sleep  ? 

And  who  can  look  down  upon  such  a  sight  without  a 
silent  prayer  to  the  FATHER,  that  he  would  guide  the  feet 
aright  and  cover  the  defenseless  head  ? 

A  carriage  drove  up  to  the  gate,  and  Esther  came  in 
silently  but  quickly.  She  saw  Waring,  and  her  face 
brightened  ;  a  smile  broke  over  it,  and  as  he  rose  to  meet 
her,  she  grasped  his  hand  warmly,  saying :  "  I  am  very 
glad  to  see  you." 

"And  I  am  happy  to  see  you,  Miss  Esther,"  he  said, 
"  very  happy.  I  see  that  our  little  friend  is  passing  away 
from  us.  I  feared  it,  but  is  it  not  a  rapid  decline  ?" 

"  Very,"  she  said ;  "  she  took  cold  on  New- Year's  day, 
and  has  been  sinking  rapidly  since  then.  When  did  you 
return  ?" 

"  Only  this  evening,  and  hearing  that  little  Eva  was  in 


DE   VANE.  135 

a  dying  state;  I  hastened  to  see  her.  Will  you  not  suffer 
me  to  relieve  you  to-night  ?  You  must  need  rest." 

"  N"o,"  she  said,  "  she  would  miss  me,  and  she  can  stay 
but  a  night  or  two  longer  with  us.  I  can  not  leave  her." 

"Then,"  said  Waring,  "I  will  come  to-morrow  night, 
and  if  you  will  not  consent  to  be  relieved,  I  will  watch 
with  you." 

She  smiled,  and  laying  aside  her  wrappings,  gave  some 
instructions  to  Aunt  Hester,  and  seated  herself  by  the 
bedside. 

Waring  stood  for  a  moment,  looked  once  more  at  the 
little  sleeper,  took  leave,  and  walked  out  of  the  house. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

**DBATH  13  upon  me,  yet  I  fear  not  now. 

Open  my  chamber-window;  let  me  look 
Upon  the  silent  vales — the  sunny  glow 
That  fills  each  alley,  close,  and  copsewood  nook." 

ROBKBT  NlOOLL. 

THE  next  morning,  Waring  took  possession  of  his  room, 
and  was  for  some  hours  industriously  at  work,  arranging  his 
books  and  furniture.  De  Vane  assisted  him,  and  they  felt 
as  if  their  college  days  had  returned.  Their  rooms  were 
divided  by  a  hall,  and  both  opened  upon  the  street,  so  that 
they  wore  a  cheerful  aspect.  Their  books,  which  were 
numerous,  were  arranged  upon  small  movable  cases,  so  that 
they  could  be  reached  without  inconvenience ;  and  quite 
a  number  of  engravings  adorned  their  walls.  There  was  a 
home  feeling  about  their  lodgings  which  gave  them  a  great 
charm ;  and  as  De  Vane  surveyed  his  friend's  room,  he 
looked  brighter  than  Mrs.  Bowen  had  seen  him  appear  for 
weeks. 

"  Well,  Waring,"  he  exclaimed,  "  now  we  shall  be  able 
to  work  like  Trojans.  We  may  venture  to  accept  Sir  Wal 
ter  Scott's  challenge.  You  know,  when  he  adjusted  himself 
to  his  labors — about  to  enter  upon  a  new  field — he  said  that 
he  took  for  his  motto,  4  Time  and  I  against  any  two.'  I 
think  there  are  two  here  that  will  give  him  something  to  do, 
if  he  beats  us  at  hard  work." 

"  You  know  I  am  a  Methodist,"  said  Waring,  "  and  that 
name  was  applied  to  us  at  first  because  we  were  exact  and 


DE  VANE.  137 

methodical  in  all  things.  Now,  we  must  adopt  system  in 
our  work.  None  of  your  sitting  up  all  night.  We  will 
study  by  rule." 

"  That's  right,"  said  Mrs.  Bowen,  who  stood  by,  cheerfully 
surveying  the  room.  "  See  to  that,  Mr.  Waring,  and  we 
shall  all  thank  you.  Mr.  Clarendon  says  that  he  sits  up 
most  unreasonably  late." 

De  Yane  laughed,  and  said :  "  Well,  Mrs.  Bowen,  you 
will  not  send  me  to  bed  before  twelve  o'clock,  will  you  ?" 

"  I  think  ten  o'clock  is  late  enough,"  she  said ;  "  but  if 
you  will  really  be  in  bed  by  twelve,  that  will  be  doing  so 
much  better  than  you  have  been  doing,  that  we  must  not 
quarrel  with  you." 

"  We  consider  that  a  treaty,  formally  agreed  on,  then, 
Mrs.  Bowen,"  said  Waring,  "  and  I  will  undertake  to  see 
that  it  is  carried  out  in  good  faith.  There  is  another  thing, 
too,  that  I  shall  insist  on,  De  Yane,  and  that  is,  that  you  and 
I  walk  two  miles  every  evening  at  sunset,  and  we  will  begin 
to-day." 

"  Very  well,"  said  De  Yane  ;  "  you  may  make  it  five  miles 
if  you  like ;  and  I  am  with  you,  through  storm  and  sun 
shine." 

"  Two  miles  will  do,"  said  Waring ;  "  and  as  this  is  a 
bright  day,  we  shall  make  an  auspicious  commencement." 

Punctually  at  five  o'clock,  Waring  rapped  at  De  Yane's 
door,  and  reminded  him  that  the  hour  appointed  for  their " 
walk  had  arrived ;  and  they  set  out  with  rapid  strides. 
They  turned  their  steps  toward  that  part  of  the  town  where 
Mrs.  Gildersleeve  resided  ;  and  as  they  were  passing  the 
house,  Mr.  Springfield's  carriage  dashed  up  to  the  door,  and 
Mrs.  Springfield  and  Miss  Wordsworth  alighted  from  it. 
The  gentlemen  instantly  stopped,  and  advancing  to  the 
ladies,  spoke  with  them. 

"O  Mr.  Waring!"  exclaimed  Esther,  "I  have  just  been 
sent  for.  Little  Eva  is  sinking  so  rapidly,  that  it  is  feared 


138  %      DE  VANE. 

she  will  die  in  the  coarse  of  a  few  hours."  Her  eyes  glist 
ened  with  tears,  and  in  her  eagerness,  she  laid  her  hand  on 
Waring's  arm,  and  looked  up  into  his  face,  as  if  he  could 
help  her  in  this  hour  of  suffering. 

"  I  will  go  in  with  you,  to  see  her,"  he  replied.  "  Mr. 
De  Vane,  will  you  come  with  us  ?  This  is  the  little  girl 
that  I  spoke  of  last  night." 

Mrs.  Springfield  had  already  entered  the  house.  Esther 
turned  her  face  full  upon  De  Vane,  and  looked  an  entreaty 
that  he  would  join  them.  He  was  touched.  He  might  pos 
sibly  be  wanted ;  he  might  render  some  service  in  this  house, 
when  the  angel  of  death  had  crossed  the  threshold,  and 
was  about  to  lay  his  dark  wings  about  a  helpless  child.  He 
bowed,  and  entered  the  house  with  them.  They  found  the 
little  girl  lying  on  a  sofa  that  was  drawn  up  in  front  of  the 
fire.  Her  fair  curls  were  brushed  away  from  the  face,  and 
her  large  blue  eyes  beamed  with  expression.  As  Esther 
entered  the  room  with  Waring,  Eva's  face  lighted  up  with 
almost  celestial  radiance,  and  she  turned  her  eyes  on  War 
ing,  and  said  : 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you,  sir.  Mother  told  me  you  had 
come." 

Waring  seated  himself  in  a  chair  by  her  side,  and  taking 
her  hand,  said : 

"  Yes,  my  dear  little  Eva,  I  came  to  see  you  last  night, 
but  you  were  sleeping,  and  I  would  not  disturb  you." 

Esther  was  kneeling  by  the  sofa,  and  bending  over,  she 
kissed  Eva's  forehead.  The  little  girl  smiled,  and  gave  her 
a  look  of  unutterable  love.  De  Vane  stood  leaning  against 
the  mantel-piece,  while  Mrs.  Springfield  and  Mrs.  Gilder- 
sleeve  were  seated  at  the  feet  of  the  little  girl. 

"  Mr.  Waring,  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you.  I  was  not  willing 
to  die  till  I  saw  you  again.  I  have  heard  you  so  often  speak 
of  Jesus,  that  I  felt  anxious  to  have  you  here,  that  I  might 
tell  you  how  much  I  love  him  now." 


DE  VANE.  139 

"  Dear,  dear  child !"  said  Waring,  "  I  have  long  known 
that  you  loved  him ;  and  I  have  often  told  you  that  Jesus 
loved  you." 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  and  I  feel  it  now.  It  seems  to  me  that 
I  can  almost  hear  the  tones  of  his  voice ;  and  last  night,  while 
I  slept,  it  seemed  to  me  that  angels  filled  the  room." 

Esther's  eyes  rained  tears,  and  the  large  drops  rolled 
down  Waring's  face.  De  Vane  was  very  pale,  and  his  lips 
were  compressed  firmly,  as  if  he  braced  himself  against 
emotion. 

"Miss  Esther,"  the  child  said,  "has  been  so  kind.  I  am 
sure  that  the  angels  in  heaven  can  not  be  kinder  to  me 
than  she  has  been ;  and  she  has  talked  to  me  so  sweetly 
about  Jesus,  that  I  felt  I  loved  him  more  and  more." 

"  My  precious  little  Eva,"  said  Esther,  "  you  may  be 
sure  that  Jesus  loves  you,  and  that  good  angels  are  all 
about  you." 

"  Yes,  Miss  Esther,  I  know  it  now.  I  am  going  to  see 
the  Lord  in  his  bright  abode.  Oh  !  how  bright  it  is  !  I 
am  not  afraid  to  go.  I  was,  for  a  long  time,  afraid  to  die  ; 
but  not  now  ;  no,  not  now.  I  am  sorry  to  leave  my  mother, 
and  you,  Mr.  Waring,  and  Miss  Esther,  and  my  friends  ; 
but  heaven  is  so  bright,  and  Jesus  is  there,  and  you  will 
all  be  coming  before  long." 

Mrs.  Gildersleeve's  frame  shook  with  emotion,  but  she 
could  not  disturb  the  calm  heaven  which  filled  the  heart 
of  her  dying  child. 

"  Miss  Esther,"  said  the  little  girl,  "  is  not  the  sun  shin 
ing  bright  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Esther,  "  it  is  almost  sunset ;  but  the  even 
ing  is  very  beautiful,  dear  Eva." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  she,  "  open  the  blinds,  if  you  please, 
and  let  me  see  the  sky  and  the  trees  once  more.  I  shall 
never  see  them  again." 

De  Vane  raised  the  sash  and  threw  open  the  blinds. 


140  BE  VANE. 

The  rich,  warm  rays  of  the  sun  streamed  in,  and  the  trees 
and  tall  shrubbery  about  the  house  were  touched  with 
colors  such  as  painter  never  yet  spread  on  canvas. 

"  It  is  a  beautiful  world,"  said  Eva,  "  very  beautiful ; 
but  I  shall  soon  see  a  brighter  one.  Miss  Esther,  did  you 
not  tell  me  last  night,  that  Jesus  said  he  would  go  to  pre 
pare  a  place  for  us  ?" 

"  Yes,  my  dear  Eva,"  said  Esther,  "  he  said  so ;  and  it  is 
a  lovely  place. '  So  many  good  people  have  already  gone 
there ;  and  the-  angels  are  there,  and  our  Lord  himself  is 
there." 

The  little  girl's  face  was  radiant.  Upon  her  features, 
over  which  an  unearthly  beauty  lingered,  the  glory  of  the 
upper  world  was  shining. 

"  Miss  Esther,"  said  she,  "  will  you  sing  for  me  ?" 

"  My  dear,  dear  Eva,  what  shall  I  sing  ?" 

"  Oh !  the  lines  that  you  sang  for  me  when  I  was  so 
weary,  last  week ;  they  are  so  beautiful !" 

Esther  calmed  herself;  and  having  regained  her  compo 
sure  as  far  as  was  possible  in  such  a  scene,  she  sang  some 
lines  which  the  Methodists  had  introduced  into  their  social 
meetings — 

"  Oh !  sing  to  me  of  heaven ;" 

and  as  her  voice,  almost  trembling  with  the  strong  emotion 
which  she  could  scarcely  repress,  uttered  the  words, 

"  Let  music  cheer  me  last  on  earth, 
And  greet  me  first  in  heaven," 

the  lips  of  the  dying  child  parted,  and  a  smile  of  more 
than  earthly  brightness  illuminated  her  face.  Esther  felt 
the  little  hand  which  she  held  grasp  hers  more  closely, 
and  then,  with  an  earnest  look  upward,  she  said  faintly, 
"  Heaven  !"  and  the  light  faded  out  of  her  eyes. 

"  Let   us   pray,"    said  Waring.      All   kneeling,  Waring 


DE  VANE. 

breathed  a  fervent  prayer,  thanking  God  for  having  guided 
the  little  feet  of  this  child  in  the  way  to  heaven ;  entreating 
him  to  enable  them  all,  by  his  grace,  to  follow  in  the  same 
way,  observing  the  footprints  of  our  ascended  Lord  ;  and 
imploring  the  divine  blessing  upon  the  mother,  now  left  a 
lonely  pilgrim  on  earth. 

Waring  and  De  Vane  withdrew  from  the  room,  and  left 
the  house. 

"  What  a  scene,"  said  De  Vane ;  "  what  a  scene  !  How 
nearly  weakness  and  strength  touch  each -other,  and  the 
sublime  and  the  gentle  are  sometimes  brought  together !" 

"  Yes,"  said  Waring,  "  there  indeed  weakness  and 
strength  were  brought  together :  a  little  girl  dying  in  her 
weakness,  and  the  strong  angel  leading  her  by  the  hand,  and 
shining  away  all  her  fears." 

"  It  is  very  wonderful,"  said  De  Vane. 

"  Out  of  the  mouth  of  babes  He  can  ordain  strength," 
replied  Waring. 

"A  sublimer  scene  I  never  witnessed,"  said  De  Vane; 
"  a  hero  perishing  in  battle  can  not  eclipse  that." 

"That  is  just  such  a  tribute  as  Rousseau  paid  to  Him 
who  died  for  that  little  girl.  You  of  course  remember  his 
comparing  the  last  hours  of  Socrates,  taking  the  cup  of 
poison  in  the  midst  of  cheerful  conversation  with  his  friends, 
with  the  dying  hour  of  our  Lord,  expiring  in  the  midst  of 
enemies,  and  his  body  torn  with  anguish,  yet  praying  for  his 
murderers.  The  tribute  wrung  even  from  that  man  was  the 
highest  he  could  yield.  '  Socrates  died  like  a  philosopher ; 
Jesus  Christ  like  a  God.'  I  tell  you,  De  Vane,  that  since 
the  triumph  of  Jesus  Christ,  all  who  trust  him  may  conquer 
death." 

"  That  was  indeed  a  victory  which  we  just  now  witness 
ed.  Of  what  priceless  value  that  faith  must  be  which  can 
enable  a  child  even  to  triumph  over  such  an  enemy !" 

"  Yes,"  said  Waring  ;  "  and  I  hope,  De  Vane,  that  you  will 
soon  find  it." 


14:2  DE  VANE. 

"  Ah !  Waring,"  he  replied,  "  I  am  in  mists  ;  sometimes  I 
fancy  that  I  see  the  rifts  which  let  in  the  sunlight,  but  the 
clouds  roll  once  more  over  the  heavens,  and  the  very  stars 
are  blotted  out." 

Waring  did  not  think  it  best  to  press  his  view  of  the  great 
question  just  now.  He  knew  that  De  Yane,  like  a  strong 
swimmer,  would  buffet  the  billows,  disdaining  help,  until 
his  natural  strength  was  exhausted.  He  comprehended  the 
structure  of  his  character — his  pride,  his  candor,  his  love  of 
truth,  his  veneration  for  all  that  was  really  noble  and  good  ; 
and  he  inwardly  hoped  that  he  would  yet  exclaim  with 
Nathanael,  when  the  true  light  reached  his  soul :  "  Thou 
art  the  Son  of  God  :  thou  art  the  King  of  Israel." 

The  next  day  was  Sunday.  De  *Vane  asked  Waring  at 
the  breakfast-table  when  the  funeral  of  the  little  girl  would 
take  place. 

"  This  evening,  I  learn,"  said  Waring,  "  from  her  mother's 
residence."  > 

"  It  is  proper,"  said  De  Vane,  "  that  some  grown  persona 
should  act  as  pall-bearers  ;  and,  if  it  be  agreeable  to  her 
friends,  I  will  join  you  in  performing  that  office.  I  suppose 
that  you  will  assist  in  that  way." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Waring  warmly.  "  It  is  very  kind 
of  you,  and  it  will  gratify  us  all." 

Mrs.  Bowen's  eyes  swam  in  tears. 

At  five  o'clock,  quite  a  large  number  of  persons  assem 
bled  at  Mrs.  Gildersleeve's  residence  ;  and  among  them, 
persons  of  the  highest  respectability.  Mr.  Springfield  con 
ducted  the  services.  He  took  no  text,  but  made  some  re 
marks,  sketched  with  fine  taste  the  beautiful  character  of 
the  little  girl,  and  described  her  last  hours.  "  Over  such  a 
death,"  said  he,  "there  can  be  no  bitter  tears;  the  hour  for 
grief  has  gone  by,  the  suffering  is  ended,  and  the  spirit  has 
found  in  its  native  heaven  perfect  bliss  in  the  smile  of  Him 
who,  when  on  earth,  took  little  children  in  his  arms,  and 


DE   VANE.  143 

blessed  them.  Let  us  bear  this  beautiful,  lifeless  form  to  the 
grave,  where  flowers  will  soon  spring  over  it,  and  the  night- 
dews  will  water  it.  She  is  not  dead,  but  sleepeth." 

Waring  and  De  Vane,  with  two  of  the  larger  boys  of  the 
Sunday-school,  walked  on  either  side  of  the  hearse. 

Esther  saw  De  Vane  with  indefinable  emotions.  She 
knew  his  aristocratic  tastes  ;  and  yet  here  he  was,  walking 
by  the  side  of  the  remains  of  a  little  girl  of  humble  family 
to  the  grave.  Mrs.  Springfield  could  not  repress  her  aston 
ishment. 

"  Esther,"  said  she,  "  do  you  observe  Mr.  De  Vane  ? 
The  patrician  must  have  something  very  gentle  in  his  na 
ture." 

Dr.  Dahlgreen,  a  warm  friend  to  Mrs.  Gildersleeve,  com 
ing  up  to  the  carriage,  said : 

"  Bless  my  soul !  Mrs.  Springfield,  this  is  the  most  aris 
tocratic  funeral  that  I  have  attended  in  an  age.  There  is 
Waring,  the  first-honor  man.  I  can  account  for  him  on 
the  score  of  his  Methodism ;  but  what  on  earth  can  have 
induced  that  young  Virginian,  who  is  as  proud  as  Lucifer, 
to  take  his  place  there  ?" 

Without  waiting  for  an  answer,  he  walked  off  to  his  gig, 
and  followed  the  procession. 

The  burial-service  was  read  at  the  grave,  and  as  the 
mound  was  raised  above  it,  the  whole  party  of  Sunday- 
school  children  threw  flowers  upon  it.  The  level  rays  of 
the  setting  sun  streamed  over  it,  and  Esther  felt  as  if  the 
smile  of  God  warmed  the  lowly  couch  of  the  little  sleeper. 

That  night,  when  Waring  had  returned  from  church,  De 
Vane  entered  his  room,  and  said  : 

"Waring,  what  are  Mrs.  Gildersleeve's  means  of  living  ?" 

"  Very  moderate,"  replied  Waring.  "  She  is  industrious, 
and  lives  mainly  by  her  own  labor." 

"  She  will  of  necessity  incur  some  unusual  expenses  now. 
Will  you  be  good  enough  to  hand  her  this?" 


144  BE   VANE. 

He  put  into  Waring's  hand  a  purse  of  dark  silk,  contain 
ing  one  hundred  dollars  in  gold. 

"  I  do  not  know  her  personally,"  he  added,  "  and  I  do 
not  wish  that  she  should  know  that  it  conies  from  me.  She 
might  feel  hurt  at  accepting  any  thing  from  a  stranger." 

"  It  is  very  kind  of  you,"  said  Waring,  "  and  I  will  see 
that  she  receives  it." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  De  Yane. 

"  Sit  down,"  said  Waring.  "  I  took  tea  at  Mr.  Spring 
field's  this  evening,  and  he  and  Mrs.  Springfield  both  enjoin 
ed  it  upon  me  to  urge  you  to  visit  them.  You  must  do  so  ; 
it  will  be  good  for  you  in  every  way." 

"  I  go  nowhere,"  said  De  Vane  ;  "  there  is  absolutely  so 
much  to  do,  that  by  the  time  I  get  through  with  a  day's 
work,  I  am  not  fit  for  any  thing." 

"  You  will  get  on  better  with  our  systematic  way  of  do 
ing  things.  Remember  the  wholesome  motto, '  Festina  lente? 
An  occasional  visit  to  such  a  family  as  Mr.  Springfield's  will 
do  you  good  in  every  way." 

"  Well,  I  will  go  with  you,  and  if  you  find  me  becoming 
idle,  you  must  admonish  me.  By  the  way,  I  heard  Mr. 
Clarendon  promise  Mrs.  Habersham  that  he  would  take  you 
to  see  her.  What  do  you  say  to  that  ?" 

"  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  him,  I'm  sure,"  said  War 
ing.  "  I  should  think  her  house  a  very  attractive  one." 

"  Yes,  and  filled  with  works  of  art,  I'm  told.  I  met  her 
at  Mr.  Clarendon's,  some  short  time  since.  Miss  Godolphin 
was  with  her,  and  was  as  splendidly  beautiful  as  ever.  But 
it  is  very  strange  that  she  seems  to  be  so  sad.  I  do  not  un 
derstand  it." 

"  Did  she  appear  so  when  you  last  met  her  ?" 

"  Oh  !  yes ;  more  unmistakably  than  before." 

"  I  can  not  comprehend  it.  She  must  have  suffered.  She 
is  certainly  an  extraordinary  person." 


DE   VANE.  145 

"Very,"  said  De  Vane.     "She  is  brilliant.     We  must 
*>olve  the  mystery." 

"  Take  care  !"  said  Waring ;  "  she  may  be  dangerous." 
"  Just  what  Mr.  Clarendon  said ;  but  she  disclaimed  it, 
in  terms  of  sadness  which  absolutely  impressed  me  with 
their  earnestness.     But  I  am  trespassing  upon  you.     Good 
night  !" 

"  Good  night !"  said  Waring.     "  You're  going  to  bed  ?" 
"  Oh  !  yes.     I  am  somewhat  fatigued  to-night." 
He  entered  his  room ;  but  he  did  not  retire  immediately. 
He  sat  before  his  fire  in  deep  thought.     The  scenes  of  the 
day  were  before  him — the  grave  of  little  Eva  strewn  with 
flowers,  and  the  form  of  Esther  bending  over  it,  and  be 
dewing  it  with  her  tears.     Even  when  he  slept,  the  form 
of  Esther  floated  before  him,  and  seemed  to  rise  heaven 
ward,  her  face  turned  toward  him,  and  smiling  in  the  midst 
of  her  tears. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

*'  WINTER  is  worn  that  was  the  flowers'  bale. 
And  thus  I  see  among  these  pleasant  things 
Each  care  decay,  and  yet  my  sorrow  springs." 

LORD  SURREY. 

SPRING  opened  gloriously.  Every  vestige  of  winter 
was  gone.  Leaves,  flowers,  birds,  all  appeared.  The  air 
was  balmy ;  the  trees  were  vocal ;  windows  were  raised, 
and  doors  thrown  open.  The  town — remarkable  for  its 
fine  gardens,  its  shrubbery  and  trees — was  full  of  sweet 
odors  and  cheerful  sounds.  Leasowes  was  beautiful ;  its 
shrubbery  and  flowers  were  never  finer.  The  graveled 
walks  and  grassy  slopes  were  delightful.  The  clear  water 
filled  the  marble  basin  to  overflowing,  and  the  birds  filled 
its  shady  recesses  with  joyous  notes.  The  walks  of  the 
public  garden  were  thronged;  and  nurses  drew  in  Lilli 
putian  carriages,  their  little  charges  over  its  smooth  walks. 

There  is  something  in  the  smile  of  nature  to  awaken  the 
soul.  It  cheers  the  rich  and  the  poor  alike ;  and  unlike 
the  luxuries  of  the  artificial  world,  the  flowers,  the  trees, 
the  balmy  air,  and  the  music  of  birds,  may  be  had  without 
money  and  without  price.  The  benevolence  of  God  scat 
ters,  without  stint,  flowers  in  the  wilderness  ;  and  the 
laborer  in  the  fields  may  smell  the  sweet  breath  of  the 
earth,  and  survey  the  wide  expanse  of  woods  and  sky. 
Thank  God  for  the  deep-blue  heavens,  for  the  great  trees, 
for  the  wild  flowers,  for  the  birds  of  the  air,  for  little 
bright  streams,  for  majestic  rivers,  for  the  wide  sea,  for 

(146) 


DE   VANE.  147 

hills  and  valleys  and  the  great  mountains,  for  solitudes 
in  the  wilderness,  and  for  great  water-falls  which  utter 
his  praise  in  reverberating  tones  of  thunder  !  Thank  God 
for  the  green  grass,  for  meadows  where  cattle  graze,  for 
the  glory  of  ripening  grain  and  fruits,  for  the  splendor  of 
summer  verdure,  for  the  yellow  autumnal  harvests,  for  the 
stern  magnificence  of  winter  ! 

All  nature  utters  her  deep  hymn  of  praise,  and  breathes 
her  incense.  Let  the  thanksgiving  from  human  hearts 
mingle  with  the  pure  adoration  of  our  MOTHER  EARTH  ! 

De  Vane  had  become  a  regular  visitor  at  Mr.  Spring 
field's,  where  he  was  sure  to  find  a  warm  welcome.  Mr. 
Springfield  felt  a  high  respect  for  him,  and  enjoyed  his 
conversation,  which  took  a  wide  range.  He  saw  that  the 
young  Virginian  was  ambitious ;  but  he  saw,  too,  that  he 
was  generous.  His  aspirations  were  not  for  distinction 
merely,  but  for  usefulness.  ISTot  for  the  applause  of  man 
kind  only,  but  for  the  richer  applause  of  his  own  conscious 
ness  of  deserving  honors.  Too  proud  to  stoop,  the  warmth 
of  his  nature  made  him  enter,  with  ready  sympathy,  into 
the  condition  even  of  the  poor  and  humble.  Some  of  his 
warmest  friends  were  among  laboring  men.  There  was  a 
Btone-cutter  employed  upon  one  of  the  public  buildings,  a 
man  of  intelligence,  with  whom  De  Vane  contracted  a  sort 
of  intimacy.  He  was  cutting  a  Corinthian  cap,  one  day, 
as  De  Vane  was  passing,  and  the  young  student  stopped 
to  speak  with  him ;  examined  the  pattern  by  which  the 
man  was  working,  and  explained  to  him  the  origin  of  that 
order  of  architecture,  suggesting,  at  the  same  time,  that 
the  pattern  was  too  stiff,  and  that  it  would  be  in  better 
taste,  if  the  leaves  were  somewhat  more  curved.  The  man, 
being  one  of  the  head  workmen,  acted  upon  the  sugges 
tion,  and  finding  his  work  greatly  improved  by  it,  was 
pleased.  He  became  a  fast  friend  of  De  Vane,  and  was  in 
the  habit  of  saying  that  the  young  student  knew 


148  DE   VANE. 

about  stone-cutting  than  he  did.  The  blacksmith,  who 
shod  the  horse  which  De  Vane  often  rode,  was  very  defer 
ential,  and  did  not  hesitate  to  say  that  the  young  Vir 
ginian  could  beat  him  at  his  own  trade. 

Mr.  Springfield  found  his  range  of  reading  so  wide,  that 
he  declared  himself  always  refreshed  after  an  hour's  con 
versation  with  De  Vane.  They  often  spoke  of  Moral 
Science,  and  the  depth  of  De  Vane's  views  surprised  him. 
He  carefully  avoided  controversy  with  him  ;  but  suggested 
lines  of  thought  which  he  knew  would  help  to  conduct  the 
noble,  ardent,  truthful  nature  of  his  young  friend,  to  the 
spot  from  which  he  could  look  out  upon  the  harmonies  of 
the  realm  of  truth.  Mrs.  Springfield  became  much  inter 
ested  in  him.  She  learned  from  Waring  his  kindness  to 
Mrs.  Gildersleeve,  and  it  deepened  her  respect  for  him. 
Highly  cultivated  herself,  De  Vane  enjoyed  her  conversa 
tion,  and  spoke  with  less  reserve  to  her,  perhaps,  than  to 
any  one  else,  except  Waring.  He  learned  to  venerate  her 
true  piety,  and  never,  in  her  presence,  uttered  a  word 
which  could  give  her  pain. 

His  intercourse  with  Esther  was  delightful  to  him.  She 
grew  in  his  esteem,  and  her  acquirements  and  accomplish 
ments  filled  him  with  admiration.  He  learned  one  fact, 
which  he  had  not  discovered  in  their  early  acquaintance, 
that  there  was  a  deep  enthusiasm  pervading  her  character. 
He  had  thought  her  somewhat  too  grave,  and  possibly 
cold,  when  he  first  met  her.  He  saw  her  passion  for  music, 
but  even  that  awakened  the  thought  that  she  might  love 
that  too  well  to  be  able  to  love  any  thing  else  with  ardor. 
But  he  now  observed,  as  he  was  oftener  with  her,  that  her 
nature  was  full  of  ardor — ardor  perfectly  well  regulated, 
and  under  the  dominion  of  reason  and  principle ;  but  there 
was  ardor.  Like  the  soil  which  produces  the  finest  grapes, 
there  was  a  warmth  which  could  not  be  felt  on  the  surface, 
but  which  made  its  presence  known  by  the  fruit  which  it 


DE   VANE.  149 

yielded,  and  diffused  itself -in  the  generous  wine  which  ex 
hilarated  without  intoxicating.  He  needed  no  urging  now 
from  Waring  to  induce  him  to  visit  Mr.  Springfield's ;  and 
his  friend  smiled  as  he  saw  the  change,  but  did  not  re 
mark  upon  it  to  him,  further  than  to  say,  that  he  was 
pleased  to  see  him  learning  to  prize  good  society. 

"  Haven't  I  always  done  that,  Waring  ?"  he  replied,  when 
his  friend  made  the  remark  to  him. 

"  Why,  some  time  ago,"  said  Waring,  "  there  was  no  in 
ducing  you  to  go  anywhere,  and  you  seemed  to  waste  your 
sweetness  either  on  your  books,  or  in  conversation  with  your 
friend  Stiles  the  stone-cutter,  or  Hobbs  the  blacksmith,  or 
Swan  the  public  gardener." 

"  Now,  Waring,"  he  answered,  "  you  know  that  I  always 
would  inflict  myself  upon  you,  and  that  I  did  visit  Mr.  Clar 
endon's,  from  the  first.  You  are  not  growing  aristocratic, 
are  you  ?" 

"  Oh !  no,  not  at  all,  but  I  thought  you  a  little  inclined 
that  way ;  and  I  did  not  exactly  comprehend  your  liking 
for  the  blacksmith,  who  does  swear  outrageously."  . 

De  Vane  laughed,  and  said  :  "  Yes,  I'm  trying  to  break 
him  of  that  habit.  I  tell  him  that  it  is  not  gentlemanlike, 
but  he  doesn't  seem  to  feel  the  force  of  the  appeal ;  for  I 
heard  him  yesterday  calling  my  horse  some  very  hard 
names,  because  he  did  not  choose  to  have  one  of  his  hind- 
feet  held  up  in  the  air  for  thirty  minutes." 

"  You'll  have  to  give  him  up,  unless  you  reform  him. 
But  what  do  you  say  to  our  calling  this  evening  at  Mrs. 
Habersham's  ?" 

"  Quite  at  your  service,"  said  De  Vane.  "  You  have 
been  there,  I  believe,  once  or  twice  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Waring.  "  Mr.  Clarendon  invited  me  to  an 
evening  drive  with  him  soon  after  my  return  from  Georgia, 
you  remember,  and  we  called  on  the  ladies.  They  were 


150  DE  VANE. 

good  enough  to  invite  me  to  visit  them,  and  I  have  been 
there  once  or  twice  since." 

"  And  how  do  you  find  Miss  Godolphin  ?  Is  she  still  the 
queen  of  night  ?" 

"  I  do  not  comprehend  her,"  said  Waring ;  "  but  she  is 
a  very  interesting  person,  and,  if  I  do  not  mistake,  she  is  a 
noble  woman — full  of  character." 

"  As  to  character,"  said  De  Vane,  "  she  has  enough  of 
that ;  and  there  is  a  fascination  about  her.  Her  beauty, 
her  genius,  her  accomplishments,  her  sadness,  invest  her 
with  a  wonderful  charm." 

"  So  they  do,v  said  Waring.  "  She  is  a  person,  too,  of 
great  generosity ;  her  appreciation  of  others  is  fine.  She 
speaks  of  Miss  Wordsworth  in  a  way  that  is  very  pleasing." 

"  She  could  not  do  less,"  said  De  Vane.  "  Miss  Words 
worth's  qualities  would  awaken  admiration  anywhere  ;  and 
her  purity  is  such,  that  even  her  own  sex  must  admire  her." 

"  Yes,"  said  Waring ;  "  and  do  you  know  that  though 
very  unlike  in  person,  both  being  impersonations  of  the 
highest  but  different  styles  of  beauty,  I  think  their  organ 
ization  strikingly  similar  ?'' 

"  Indeed  !"  said  De  Vane.  "  I  think  Miss  Wordsworth 
the  most  cheerful — I  may  say,  the  happiest  person  I  ever 
knew,  grave  as  she  generally  is,  while  Miss  Godolphin 
seems  to  be  the  very  impersonation  of  sadness." 

"  That  does  not  prove  a  difference  in  organization  so 
much  as  in  circumstances.  They  are  both  cultivated,  tho 
roughly  accomplished,  full  of  enthusiasm,  passionately  fond 
of  music,  of  great  depth  of  character ;  but  Miss  Words 
worth  is  a  Christian  —  has  never  felt  in  her  nature  the 
awakening  of  human  passion,  and  has  never  known  disap 
pointment.  Miss  Godolphin  has  suffered  in  some  way,  in 
what  way  I  do  not  know.  Her  pride  must  have  been 
wounded,  and  she  may  have  been  deceived  in  some  object 
of  her  regard.  Her  history  during  her  stay  in  Europe  is 


DE   VANE.  151 

not  known  to  me.  But  she  is  a  splendid  woman  of  very 
noble  nature.  Of  that  I  am  sure." 

De  Vane  smiled,  but  said  only :  "  I  shall  be  pleased  to 
know  her  better.  You  have  interested  me  in  her." 

"  I  learned  to-day,"  said  Waring,  "  that,  hearing  of  the 
affliction  of  Mrs.  Gildersleeve,  the  day  after  the  funeral  she 
drove  to  the  desolate  home,  and  passed  an  hour  in  conver 
sation  with  the  bereaved  mother,  and  with  great  delicacy 
supplied  her  with  articles  of  mourning.  Esther's  gifts  and 
Miss  Godolphin's  have  relieved  every  want  of  that  kind, 
and  your  generous  donation  has  made  her  altogether  com 
fortable." 

After  early  tea,  the  two  gentlemen  called  at  Mrs.  Haber- 
sham's.  It  was  a  large  brick  mansion,  built  in  the  English 
style,  the  offices  being  in  a  range  with  the  main  building ; 
and  it  was  furnished  in  the  most  costly  way.  English  car 
pets  covered  the  floors ;  the  furniture,  also  imported,  was 
massive  and  rich,  and  the  walls  were  adorned  with  paint 
ings — copies  chiefly  of  the  great  masters. 

Miss  Godolphin's  father  had  married  a  younger  sister  of 
Mrs.  Habersham.  Both  parents  were  dead,  and  Mr.  Haber- 
sham  also ;  and  the  two  ladies,  soon  after  the  death  of  those 
who  were  so  dear  to  them,  had  gone  to  Europe,  where  they 
resided  for  several  years.  Mrs.  Habersham  was  wealthy, 
and  Miss  Godolphin's  fortune  was  ample. 

The  gentlemen  were  received  at  the  door  by  a  footman  in 
livery,  and  shown  into  a  drawing-room  exquisitely  fitted  up. 
A  grand  piano-forte  stood  near  the  middle  of  the  room,  and 
a  harp  was  not  far  from  it,  by  which  a  chair  was  placed,  as 
if  it  had  been  just  occupied.  Light  chairs  of  different  pat 
terns  were  distributed  over  the  floor,  and  two  sofas,  of 
graceful  form,  and  covered  with  chintz,  were  on  either  side 
of  the  fire-place.  On  the  mantle-piece,  a  French  clock,  rep 
resenting  Sappho  leaping  into  the  sea,  was  placed,  and  over 
it  hung  a  portrait  of  Miss  Godolphin,  in  the  highest  style 


152  DE  VANE. 

of  art.  It  was  a  half-length.  The  attitude  was  that  of  con 
templation.  The  head,  slightly  drooped,  rested  on  one  of  the 
hands ;  the  hair,  parted  simply  in  front,  was  gathered  in  a 
full  band  at  the  back  of  the  head ;  the  other  hand  held  a 
Tuscan  bonnet,  wreathed  with  wild  flowers,  as  if  it  had 
been  just  covered  with  these  natural  adornments;  and  the 
back-ground  afforded  a  view  of  the  sea.  The  picture  was 
exquisite,  of  great  merit  as  a  work  of  art,  and  the  likeness 
was  striking. 

Waring  had  never  seen  it,  this  being  his  first  introduc 
tion  to  this  room ;  and  he  and  De  Vane  were  standing  ob 
serving  the  picture,  when  the  door  was  opened,  and  Miss 
Godolphin  entered. 

She  received  the  gentlemen  with  warmth,  and  expressed 
her  gratification  at  their  visit,  saying  that  Mrs.  Habersham 
would  soon  join  them. 

"  We  were  observing  your  picture,  Miss  Godolphin,"  said 
Waring,  "  and  we  thought  it  every  way  a  triumph  of  art." 

"  It  is  thought  to  be  so  by  all  who  have  seen  it,"  she 
replied.  "  It  is  the  work,  too,  of  an  American  artist." 

"  That  enhances  its  value,"  said  Waring. 

"  Yes,"  she  said.  "  I  am  intensely  American.  We  found, 
in  Naples,  a  countryman  of  ours  who  has  been  in  Italy  for 
years.  He  passed  two  years  in  Paris,  and  then  went  to 
Florence,  afterward  to  Rome,  and  when  we  met  him  he 
had  taken  a  villa  near  Naples,  and  was  attracting  large 
numbers  of  English  and  American  travelers.  He  painted 
that  picture." 

"  He  will  return  to  this  country,  I  suppose  ?"  said  De 
Vane. 

"  That  is  by  no  means  certain,"  she  said.  "  His  world 
is  that  of  art.  He  paints  but  few  portraits  ;  but  his 
favorite  subject  is,  nevertheless,  the  human  face.  He  has 
a  picture  of  extraordinary  power,  representing  Jephthah's 
daughter  going  out  to  meet  her  victorious  father.  The 


DE  VANE.  153 

contrast  between  her  glorious,  exultant  face,  full  of  pride 
and  joy,  and  the  anguish  which  speaks  from  every  feature 
of  the  hero,  is  wonderful." 

As  De  Vane  looked  at  the  portrait  before  him,  he  fancied 
that  it  might  resemble  the  Jewish  maiden  after  she  learned 
her  fate ;  but  he  did  not  venture  to  say  so. 

"  There  is  another  of  his  pictures,"  she  said,  rising  and 
walking  across  the  room.  It  represented  the  daughter 
of  Herodias  bearing  the  head  of  John  the  Baptist  to  her 
mother.  The  conception  was  original :  the  maiden  bore  the 
grand  head  upon  a  silver  dish,  and  her  averted  face  show 
ed  her  horror  of  the  act  which  she  was  performing  under 
the  injunction  of  her  imperious  mother.  The  form  and 
face  were  superb,  and  the  whole  picture  a  great  success. 
Departing  from  the  usual  ideal,  the  artist  had  given  the 
maiden  auburn  hair  and  blue  eyes.  The  rich,  heavy  ring 
lets  fell  about  the  face,  and  the  hair,  gathered  in  a  braid 
on  the  back  of  the  head,  was  clasped  by  a  golden  serpent. 
Tears  stood  in  the  lustrous  eyes,  and  tenderness  touched 
the  features,  giving  to  the  face  a  blended  expression  of 
anguish  and  compassion.  The  form  was  stately  for  so 
young  a  person,  and  a  matchless  grace  was  in  the  attitude. 
De  Vane  was  startled  at  observing,  in  the  whole  form  and 
features,  a  close  resemblance  to  Esther.  She  might  have 
stood  for  the  picture ;  and  gazing  upon  it  for  some  minutes 
in  silence,  he  found  his  eyes  moisten.  There  is  wonderful 
power  in  a  picture,  and  as  De  Vane  stood  before  this,  he 
really  was  conscious  of  an  intenser  interest  in  Esther  than 
he  was  aware  of  before.  He  had  never  analyzed  his  sen 
timents  ;  he  had  formed  no  purposes  ;  and  he  was  startled 
to  find  himself  so  moved  by  a  representation  which  asso 
ciated  her  with  a  scene  of  horror  and  suffering.  The  real 
state  of  the  heart  is  often  disclosed  to  us  suddenly.  It  is 
especially  so  in  great  and  generous  natures.  A  dream,  a 
leave-taking,  a  song,  the  presence  of  danger,  or  the  hand 


154  DE  VANE. 

of  suffering  laid  upon  the  object,  wakes  up  within  us  the 
consciousness  of  the  depth  of  a  sentiment  whose  existence 
we  had  not  suspected  before.  Startled,  alarmed,  we  wake 
to  the  real,  where  before  we  had  been  reposing  in  dreamy 
listlessness  ;  and  we  realize  what  Comus  experienced  when 
he  heard  the  music  which  arrested  his  steps,  and  filled  him 
with  wonder. 

"  De  Vane,"  said  Waring,  "  do  you  find  any  resemblance 
between  that  form,  and  any  of  our  friends  ?" 

"  It  is  wonderful !"  exclaimed  De  Vane. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  I  know  that  you 
see  in  it  a  strong  resemblance  to  Miss  Wordsworth.  Do 
you  know  that  it  is  so  faithful,  I  am  myself  amazed  at  it  ? 
The  first  time  that  I  met  her,  her  face  was  perfectly  fa 
miliar  to  me.  I  could  not  recall  it.  She  was  so  very  young 
Avhen  I  left  for  Europe,  that  I  did  not  know  her ;  but  yet, 
upon  seeing  her  upon  my  return,  I  found  myself  startled. 
I  could  not  say  why,  but  the  thought  that  I  had  known 
her  elsewhere  haunted  me  ;  nor  could  I  account  for  it  until 
some  two  weeks  since,  when  our  pictures  were  brought 
home  and  unboxed.  Then,  when  this  was  hung,  I  saw  in 
an  instant  what  had  so  long  bewildered  me." 

"  It  is  vely  remarkable,"  said  Waring. 

"  It  is  positively  wonderful,"  said  Miss  Godolphin.  "-If 
it  were  only  that  some  features  resembled,  it  might  be  ac 
counted  for  by  supposing  it  to  be  the  meeting  of  the  ideal 
and  the  actual  in  some  accidental  way,  which  I  think  often 
occurs  ;  but  here  is  every  thing — hair,  eyes,  mouth,  the 
bust,  the  very  form ;  and,  I  repeat,  it  is  nothing  short  of 
marvelous.  The  artist  valued  the  picture  highly,  was  re 
luctant  to  part  with  it,  and  would  not  sell  it  to  me  ;  but  as 
we  had  purchased  several  large  and  costly  pictures  from 
him,  he  presented  that  to  me,  saying  that  it  would  go  to 
the  very  place  Avhere  he  desired  to  be  known  and  appre 
ciated  by  his  works. 


DE  VANE.  155 

"  It  is  very  strange,"  said  De  Yane.  "  A  more  perfect 
likeness  I  never  saw.  Can  it  be  possible  that  the  artist 
has  seen  Miss  Wordsworth  ?" 

"  Oh  !  no,"  she  said.  "  He  went  abroad  when  she  was 
a  child." 

"  Do  you  remember,  Miss  Godolphin,"  said  De  Yane, 
"  to  have  seen  it  stated  that  a  man  of  science,  having  ob 
served  the  effect  of  the  dome  of  St.  Peter's  upon  the  be 
holder,  and  thinking  it  perfect  in  its  proportions,  he  resolv 
ed  to  measure  it  ?  He  did  so.  He  tested  the  strength  of  the 
curve,  and  he  found  that  the  arch  of  the  dome  was  the 
curve  of  greatest  strength  ;  thus  making  the  discovery 
that  the  lines  of  beauty  and  strength  were  identical.  Mi 
chael  Angelo  sought  for  artistic  effect  in  its  construction, 
and  that  conducted  him  to  strength  ;  so  that  the  dome  is 
matchless." 

"  The  incident  is  charming,"  said  Miss  Godolphin  ;  "  and 
do  you  know,  Mr.  De  Yane,  that  you  have  paid  a  very 
striking  tribute  to  the  beauty  of  Miss  Wordsworth,  by 
accounting  for  the  resemblance  which  we  all  see,  upon  the 
principle  that  the  artist  pursuing  his  line  of  ideal  loveli 
ness,  we  find  it  verified  by  the  real  ?" 

De  Yane  colored,  and  bowed. 

"  But  you  need  not  be  ashamed,  Mr.  De  Yane,  at  the 
thought  of  having  committed  high  treason  against  a  lady 
in  her  own  realm,  by  laying  down  the  proposition  that  the 
perfection  of  beauty  is  to  be  found  in  a  style  wholly  differ 
ent  from  her  own ;  for  I  quite  agree  with  you,  that  Miss 
Wordsworth  is  perfect." 

"  Pardon  me,  Miss  Godolphin,"  he  said.  "  In  the  human 
face,  widely  different  styles  may  yet  be  perfect." 

"  Thanks,  Mr.  De  Yane,"  said  she.  "  It  is  so  gracefully 
atoned  for,  that  you  need  not  regret  the  treason." 

Waring  and  De  Yane  were  both  surprised.  They  had 
never  seen  her  so  bright. 


156  DE  VANE. 

Mrs.  Habersham  came  in,  and  renewed  the  welcome  to 
the  gentlemen. 

The  conversation  turned  upon  foreign  travel,  and  Mrs. 
Habersham  expressed  her  gratification  at  being  once  more 
at  home,  declaring  that  nothing  could  induce  her  to  go 
abroad  again. 

"  It  is  a  pleasure  that  I  promise  myself,"  said  De  Vane, 
"  and  I  should  not  willingly  relinquish  it." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Mrs.  Habersham,  "  you  should  go ;  nor 
do  I  regret  having  gone,  but  I  would  not  tempt  the  ocean 
again." 

"  To  me,"  said  Waring,  "  it  would  be  very  agreeable  to 
visit  Europe ;  but  if  I  ever  cross  the  Atlantic,  I  shall  go 
to  the  East.  It  must  be  deeply  interesting  to  trace  the 
rise  and  progress  of  civilization,  and  to  explore  the  coun 
tries  where  the  most  important  events  have  occurred. 
The  Nile  and  the  Holy  Land  would  be  irresistible  to  me, 
if  there  were  no  barriers  between  us." 

"  I  felt  just  as  you  do,  Mr.  Waring,"  said  Miss  Godolphin  ; 
"  but  my  aunt  and  myself  had  no  one  upon  whom  we  were 
willing  to  impose  ourselves  for  such  a  journey.  My  uncle, 
who  was  with  us,  is  an  old  gentleman,  of  confirmed  habits, 
and  loves  his  ease.  He  declared  that  the  very  idea  oi 
being  subjected  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  outlandish 
people  who  hold  those  countries,  once  the  seats  of  civil 
ization,  made  him  shiver.  '  Then,  too,'  said  he,  £  where 
would  one  find  cafe  au  lait  for  breakfast,  and  truffles  for 
dinner?'" 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Habersham.  "  Yet  Godolphin  has 
lived  so  much  in  Paris  and  London,  that  he  will  never  re 
side  even  in  this  country  permanently." 

"  Very  bad  taste  it  is,  I  think,"  said  Miss  Godolphin. 
"  England  is  to  me  intolerable,  though  most  of  my  relatives 
are  there.  I  love  the  vigorous,  active,  boundless  life  which 
opens  before  me  in  this  young  country." 


DE  VANE.  157 

"  I  rejoice  to  hear  you  say  so,  Miss  Godolphin,"  said 
Waring. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Habersham,  "  Hortensia  is  thoroughly 
American,  quite  as  much  so  as  I  am." 

"  Still,"  said  De  Vane,  "  there  must  be  much  to  admire 
in  England;  and  social  life  is  in  perfection  there." 

"Very  far  from  it,"  said  Miss  Godolphin..  "Of  course 
there  is  refinement  and  cultivation ;  but  there  is  a.  great 
deal  of  heartlessness  too,  and  there  must  be  where  the 
social  organization  is  so  artificial  and  frigid." 

"  I  had  not  supposed  so,"  said  De  Vane.     "  Some  of  our 
Virginia  families  find  their  chief  delight  in  visiting  Eng 
land,  and  passing  months   with   their  relatives   in  that  „ 
country." 

"  Yes,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  I  know  it.  The  Guil- 
fords,  for  instance.  But,  Mr.  De  Vane,  I  do  not  sym 
pathize  with  them.  I  am  an  American  woman,  and  I  re 
joice  in  being  able  to  claim  such  a  country  for  my  own. 
How  I  exulted  in  undeceiving  them  when  on  the  Conti 
nent  !  I  was  mistaken  for  an  Englishwoman ;  and  how 
they  opened  their  eyes  with  amazement  when  I  told  them 
I  was  an  American  !" 

All  laughed,  and  Waring  said  : 

"  You  do  not  know,  Miss  Godolphin,  how  much  pleasure 
it  gives  me  to  hear  you  speak  in  this  way." 

"  Oh  !"  said  she,  "  I  have  no  patience  with  women  who 
come  home  from  their  travels,  only  to  look  with  disdain 
upon  every  thing  here,  and  to  sigh  for  luxuries  which 
they  have  left  behind  them." 

"  You  rouse  my  patriotism,  Miss  Godolphin,"  said  De 
Vane.  "  I  shall  hope  to  return  home,  if  I  ever  make  my 
tour,  as  loyal  as  you  are." 

"  I  do  not  doubt  it,  Mr.  De  Vane,"  she  said.  "  You  are 
too  earnest  to  be  captivated  by  any  thing  artificial,  how 
ever  brilliant  it  may  be." 


158  DE  VANE. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  De  Yane.  "  I  shall  hope  to  -deserve 
your  confidence." 

"  There  is  one  thing  we  ought  to  do,  however,"  said 
she ;  "  we  ought  to  exert  ourselves  to  cultivate  the  taste 

o 

of  our  people,  and  to  import  every  thing  good  that  we 
can  from  abroad.  I  love  my  country,  and  I  wish  to  see 
society  here  what  it  ought  to  be,  exhibiting  the  only  aris 
tocracy  worth  calling  by  the  name ;  a  system  that  admits 
the  true,  the  good,  the  cultivated,  the  men  of  soul  and 
intellect,  and  the  women  of  worth  and  culture,  into  its 
highest  circle,  no  matter  how  humble  their  birth,  or  how 
poor  their  fortunes.  An  aristocracy  of  birth  is  simply 
^ridiculous ;  for  I  have  seen  people  of  the  very  best  fami 
lies,  as  they  are  called,  as  vulgar  and  stupid  as  possible." 

Waring  and  De  Yane  both  looked  at  her  with  admi 
ration  ;  she  was  so  noble,  so  full  of  courage,  so  disinter 
ested.  She  could  afford  to  utter  such  sentiments  without 
the  fear  of  misconstruction,  for  her  own  family  was  really 
aristocratic. 

"  Yes,"  she  continued,  "  to  see  some  of  these  specimens 
of  noble  blood,  inferior  in  form,  in  mind,  in  manners,  as 
suming  airs  and  treated  with  deference,  has  roused  me  so 
that  I  could  scarcely  be  civil." 

"  You  are  riglit,  Hortensia,"  said  Mrs.  Habersham.  "  I 
have  seen  you  at  times  when  you  were  scarcely  civil  to 
some  of  the  people  we  met  abroad.  Your  uncle  was  dis 
tressed." 

"  Yery  sorry,"  she  said ;  "  but  my  American  blood  was 
up,  and  I  could  have  defied  the  whole  House  of  Lords." 

They  all  laughed  heartily.  Waring  asked  for  music. 
Her  whole  aspect  changed,  and  the  habitual  sadness  re 
turned  upon  her. 

"  And  do  you  love  music,  Mr.  De  Yane  ?"  she  asked. 

"  Passionately,"  he  replied ;  "  yes,  passionately." 

She  rose,  and  took  her  seat  by  the  harp. 


DE   VANE.  159 

"  I  will  not  venture  to  touch  the  piano  this  evening," 
she  said.  "  If  I  had  Miss  Wordsworth  here  to  accompany 
me,  I  should  gladly  do  so.  What  a  voice  she  has  !  I 
assure  you  that  I  have  never  heard  it  rivaled  in  so  young 
a  person.  In  four  years  more,  if  she  cultivates  herself,  she 
will  surpass  any  one  that  I  know,  on  the  stage  or  off  it." 

She  touched  the  strings;  they  breathed  the  sweetest 
harmony.  The  low  tender  notes  were  almost  human  in 
their  utterance ;  and  she  sang : 

"  When  'midst  the  gay  I  meet 

That  gentle  smile  of  thine, 
Though  still  on  me  it  turns  most  sweet, 

I  scarce  can  call  it  mine  ; 
But  when  to  me  alone 

Your  secret  tears  you  show, 
Oh  !  then  I  feel  those  tears  my  own, 

And  claim  them  whilst  they  flow." 

She  sang  the  entire  song,  and  then,  rising  from  the  in 
strument,  seated  herself  near  De  Vane. 

He  thanked  her  for  the  song,  and  spoke  of  the  exquisite 
beauty  of  the  figure — of  the  frozen  snow  on  Jura's  steep 
melting  under  a  glance  of  fire. 

"  Yes,"  she  replied,  "  it  is  very  beautiful.  Mr.  De  Vane, 
you  are  young  ;  you  are  ambitious,  too,  I  know.  Do  not 
suffer  your  tastes  to  mislead  you.  You  will  go  to  Europe. 
I  heard  the  Guilfords  speak  of  you.  Do  be  loyal  to  your 
country." 

"  That  I  shall  be,"  said  he.  "  I  am  as  thoroughly  repub 
lican  as  you  are.  My  tastes  in  social  life  might  lead  me 
far ;  but  as  to  my  political  principles,  they  are  perfectly 
well  established." 

"  I  am  rejoiced  to  hear  you  say  so.  It  is  a  grand  thing 
to  be  a  true  man." 

After  some  general  conversation,  the  gentlemen  rose  to 


ICO  DE   VANE. 

leave.  Mrs.  Habersham  expressed  the  wish  that  they 
would  often  visit  her  house ;  and  with  thanks  for  the  invi 
tation,  they  bade  the  ladies  good-night. 

On  their  way  to  their  lodgings,  both  expressed  their 
admiration  for  Miss  Godolphin. 

" Mehercule!  Waring,"  said  De  Vane,  "she  is  magnifi 
cent." 

"Very  fine,"  said  Waring.  "Really,  a  noble  woman. 
How  animated  she  was  this  evening !" 

"  Yes,"  said  De  Yane.  "  I  should  like  to  see  the  Alpine 
snow  fairly  melted." 

"  What  a  republican  she  is  !"  said  Waring.  "  I  had  no 
idea  of  it." 

"  Nor  I,"  said  De  Yane.  "  I  supposed  she  was  as  aris 
tocratic  in  her  ideas  as  she  is  in  her  appearance.  I  like  her 
intense  patriotism.  We  must  see  her  often." 

Waring  was  by  this  time  in  deep  thought,  and  De  Yane 
walked  by  his  side  in  silence. 

As  they  entered  the  house,  Waring  said :  "  De  Yane, 
Miss  Godolphin  is  the  most  extraordinary  person  I  have 
ever  known.  We  must  see  her  often." 

"  May  she  not  be  dangerous  ?"  said  De  Yane,  opening 
the  door  of  his  room. 

"  Ah  !  you  are  quoting  Mr.  Clarendon,"  said  Waring. 

"  Good  night !" 


CHAPTER    XYI. 

"  Now,  thanks  to  Heaven,  that  of  its  grace 
Hath  led  me  to  this  lovely  place  ! 
Joy  have  I  had." 

WORDSWORTH. 

DE  VANE  had  ordered,  from  the  stone-cutter,  Mr.  Stiles, 
a  monument  for  the  grave  of  Eva  Gildersleeve,  and  as  he 
had  not  yet  seen  it  since  it  was  erected,  he  walked  alone 
to  the  cemetery,  that  he  might  examine  it.  It  was  a  little 
earlier  than  the  hour  when  he  usually  took  his  evening 
walk  with  Waring,  and  it  was  some  few  days  after  they 
had  made  their  visit  to  Mrs.  Habersham's.  He  had  not 
met  Esther  since ;  but  she  had  been  with  him,  in  that  spir 
itual  way  which  we  have  all  experienced.  In  his  day 
dreams  and  night-dreams  her  form  was  before  him.  His 
interest  in  her  had  deepened  strangely.  Still  he  did  not 
enter  into  an  analytical  examination  of  his  sentiments  to 
ward  her,  nor  had  he  formed  any  purpose  in  regard  to  her. 
Ambitious  yet  ardent,  he  had  formed  large  plans  for  his 
future,  and  he  had  no  thought  of  entangling  himself  just 
now  in  any  way  that  might  hinder  their  grandest  devel 
opment  ;  yet  he  was  conscious  of  the  pleasure  which  he 
enjoyed  in  the  society  of  Esther.  She  grew  constantly  in 
his  esteem ;  and  so  completely  had  he  come  within  the 
sphere  of  her  attraction,  that  he  found  himself  seeking  her 
presence  oftener  than  he  had  ever  before  sought  the  society 
of  any  one.  He  selected  books,  for  her,  and  her  library 
grew  under  his  contributions.  He  sketched  for  her,  and 

(161) 


162  DE   VANE. 

in  her  chamber  there  hung  several  views  of  the  Virginia 
mountains,  which  his  own  hand  had  produced. 

The  cemetery  was  in  the  midst  of  a  small  forest  of  nat 
ural  trees,  chiefly  pines,  and  was  on  a  gentle  eminence  that 
afforded  a  view  of  the  soft  Southern  landscape  that  spread 
through  the  valley  of  the  river  and  took  in  the  hills  be 
yond  it.  It  was  a  place  of  resort  for  those  who  had  rela 
tives  or  friends  there  ;  and  strangers  at  times  visited  it,  to 
observe  the  tasteful  decorations  which  affection  had  be 
stowed  upon  the  graves  of  the  loved  and  departed  who 
slept  there.  There  were  a  few  very  handsome  monuments, 
and  quite  a  number  of  smaller  ones. 

De  Vane  walked  through  the  grounds,  silent  but  for 
the  songs  of  birds.  They  made  the  place  vocal  with  their 
joyous  notes,  as  if  they  would  cheer  the  watchers  over 
those  who  slept  there ;  and  sometimes,  soaring  heavenward, 
seemed  to  invite  them  to  look  there  for  consolation. 

He  found  the  grave  of  Eva.  It  was  a  grassy  mound, 
and  on  the  centre  of  it,  a  square,  white  marble  block  was 
placed,  upon  which  stood  a  vase  of  the  purest  Italian  mar 
ble,  encircled  with  the  name  of  EVA  GILDERSLEEVE. 
Through  the  letters  a  running  vine  was  carved,  bearing 
leaves  and  half-opened  flowers.  Mr.  Stiles  had  shown 
great  skill  in  carrying  out  the  design  which  De  Vane  had 
handed  to  him.  The  vase  was  an  open  one,  intended  to 
receive  earth,  that  it  might  bear  natural  flowers. 

De  Vane  stood  looking  at  the  work,  and  his  mind  re 
verted  to  the  evening  when  the  little  child  who  slept  un 
der  the  turf  expired.  Her  sweetness,  her  faith,  her  tranquil 
leave-taking  of  the  world — all  came  to  view  vividly.  He 
saw,  too,  the  group  about  the  dying  child — Esther  clasp 
ing  the  wasted  little  hand  while  she  sang  of  heaven ;  and 
involuntarily  he  asked  himself  if  it  could  be  possible,  that 
the  spirit  then  beaming .  through  the  features,  luminous 
even  in  death,  could  have  ceased  to  live.  He  was  lost  in 


DE  VANE.  163 

thought,  and  stood  leaning  against  a  tree.  Suddenly  he 
was  roused  by  a  step  just  at  his  side,  and  turning,  he  saw 
Esther.  He  started.  Her  presence  was  so  unexpected, 
that  she  seemed  to  have  come  from  the  world  of  spirits 
to  solve  the  doubts  which  were  gathering  about  his  soul. 
She  was  dressed  in  white,  and  her  graceful  form  appeared 
almost  unearthly  in  its  loveliness. 

"  I  did  not  know  that  I  should  find  you  here,  Mr.  De 
Vane,"  she  said,  "  or  I  should  not  have  ventured  to  disturb 
your  visit  to  our  little  friend's  grave." 

He  instantly  advanced,  and  gave  her  his  hand. 

"  Nothing  could  be  more  agreeable  to  me,  Miss  Words 
worth,"  he  said,  "  than  your  coming.  I  had  not  yet  seen 
the  monument  placed  over  Eva,  and  I  came  to  examine  it." 

"  It  is  very  beautiful.  I  have  seen  it.  I  came  last  Sun 
day  evening  with  my  aunt,  and  we  both  admired  it 
greatly.  Nothing  could  be  more  appropriate — flowers  in 
terwoven  with  the  name.  The  design  is,  of  course,  yours  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  I  was  so  impressed  by  the  scene  which  I  wit 
nessed  when  she  died,  that  I  would  not  deny  myself  the 
happiness  of  paying  this  little  tribute  to  her  memory." 

"  We  are  all  deeply  indebted  to  you.  She  was  an  extra 
ordinary  little  girl,  as  you  saw,  and  her  triumph  was  glo 
rious.  It  was  so  serene ;  and  I  think,  Mr.  De  Vane,  that 
the  serene  is  most  to  be  desired  in  our  last  moments." 

"  Oh  !  yes ;  a  calm  death  is  always  beautiful." 

"  It  realizes  what  is  spoken  so  beautifully  of  the  Christ 
ian's  death — '  falling  asleep  in  Jesus.'  " 

De  Vane  was  silent. 

"  I  have  come,  Mr.  De  Vane,  to  fill  the  vase  with  flow 
ers — such  flowers  as  will  grow  and  bloom  perpetually." 

She  called  a  servant  who  stood  near  the  gate,  and  he 
came  forward  with  an  earthen  vase  filled  with  earth  and 
flowers,  and  taking  it  from  his  hands,  -she  was  about  to 
transplant  them  into  the  marble  vase. 


164  DE   VANE. 

"Allow  me,"  said  De  Vane  ;  "  this  must  be  a  joint  labor 
with  ns." 

She  yielded  to  him.  He  took  the  earthen  pot,  and  care 
fully  transferred  the  contents  to  the  marble  vase.  Esther 
directing  the  servant  to  bring  some  water  from  the  little 
stream  which  ran  near  the  spot,  she  watered  the  flowers 
which  De  Yane  had  planted.  Pausing  for  a  few  moments 
to  look  at  their  work,  they  turned  away  silently,  and 
walked  through  the  graveyard.  The  conversation  natur 
ally  turned  upon  the  scene  about  them. 

"To  me,  Mr.  De  Vane,"  said  Esther,  "this  is  a  cheerful 
place.  I  look  upon  these  hillocks  as  beds,  where  weary 
pilgrims  are  resting.  But  they  will  awake  out  of  their 
sleep." 

"  Do  you  know  that  you  have  almost  literally  quoted  a 
line  from  the  Swedish  poet  Tegner  ? — • 

1  Where  his  fathers  sleep  in  their  hillocks  green.'  " 

"  No,  I  did  not  know  the  line.  But  what  is  it  but  an 
other  rendering  of  our  Lord's  words,  and  of  those  of  the 
apostles  ?  After  all,  the  Bible  is  the  source  of  all  beauty, 
as  it  is  of  all  wisdom." 

"  It  is  a  wonderful  book,  and  I  read  it  with  increasing 
admiration.  I  can  scarcely  comprehend  how  such  a  book 
as  that  called  JOB  could  have  been  produced  in  so  early 
an  age.  Older  than  the  poetry  of  Greece,  it  surpasses  in 
sublimity  any  thing  in  Homer." 

"  I  am  much  pleased  to  hear  you  say  so,  for  I  know  your 
admiration  for  the  classics." 

"  Oh  !  yes.  I  do  not  modify  to  any  extent  my  settled 
estimate  of  classical  literature,  but  I  have  been  aston 
ished  of  late,  in  reading  the  book  of  Job,  to  find  it  so  full 
of  the  sublime  as  well  as  the  beautiful.  /Hast  thou  en 
tered  into  the  springs  of  the  sea?  Have  tne  gates  of 


DE  VAXE.  165 

death  been  opened  unto  thee  ?  Or  hast  thou  seen  the 
doors  of  the  shadow  of  death  ?'  As  if  death  were  a  dread 
monarch,  whose  lofty  gates,  yet  invisible  to  mortals,  threw 
their  appalling  shadow  over  the  world.  Then  the  glori 
ous  marshaling  of  the  constellations  in  their  nightly  cir 
cuits.  '  Canst  thou  bind  the  sweet  influence  of  Pleiades  ? 
or  loose  the  bands  of  Orion?  Canst  thou  bring  forth 
Mazzaroth  in  his  season  ?  or  canst  thou  guide  Arcturus 
with  his  sons  ?  Knowest  thou  the  ordinances  of  heaven  ? 
Canst  thou  set  the  dominion  thereof  in  the  earth  ?'  The 
description  of  the  war-horse  is  the  noblest  picture  of  the 
•  'kind  in  the  writings  of  any  age  or  people." 

Esther  looked  at  him  as  he  spoke  with  great  animation, 
uttering  the  sentences  which  he  quoted  in  a  way  to  give 
them  their  greatest  effect,  with  admiration. 

"  And  do  you  not  find,"  she  asked,  "  in  the  New  Testa 
ment  much  to  interest  you  ?  Is  it  possible  to  read  the 
Evangelists  without  feeling  their  inspiration  ?  Or  to 
listen  to  the  teachings  of  our  Lord,  with  their  gentleness, 
their  purity,  their  spiritual  power,  without  being  thrilled 
and  awed  as  if  the  Divinity  stood  in  our  midst  ?  O  Mr. 
De  Yane !  you  must  see  that  in  the  life  and  the  death  of 
our  Lord,  there  is  a  higher  sublimity  than  in  all  else  that 
has  been  made  known  to  us.  How  immeasurably  his  teach 
ings  transcend  those  of  men  !  What  is  there  in  the  words 
of  Socrates  to  rival  them  ?  He  did  not  venture  to  teach 
positive  truth.  All  he  aimed  at  was  an  approximation  to 
the  true,  the  real,  the  immortal.  And  the  fine  specu 
lations  of.  Plato  charm  us  by  their  beauty,  but  after  all 
they  are  but  speculations.  In  this  wide  world  we  need  a 
sure  guide,  and  when  we  approach  the  boundaries  of  the 
invisible  world,  we  look  for  some  strong  arm.  to  bear  us  up, 
and  steady  our  tottering  steps." 

Her  face  was  radiant,  as  she  stood  for  a  moment  and 
looked  up  to  De  Yane. 


166  DE  VANE. 

"  The  aspirations  of  humanity,"  he  said,  "  are  such  as 
you  represent  them  to  be,  Miss  Wordsworth.  A  traveler 
upon  a  wide  plain,  far  from  home  at  night,  does  not  turn 
his  eyes  more  anxiously  to  the  heavens  to  see  if  he  can 
find  a  guiding-star,  or  pause  and  listen  with  suppressed 
breath  for  some  human  voice,  more  earnestly  than  does 
man  in  his  pilgrimage  for  some  sure  guidance.  Life  is  full 
of  dread  mysteries.  The  future  is  the  unknown." 

"  Oh  !  not  unknown.  It  is  true  we  see  dimly  through 
the  mists  which  surround  us,  but  it  is  not  best  for  us, 
while  in  this  state  of  discipline,  to  have  revealed  to  us  too 
clearly  the  objects  of  a  future  world.  But  the  future  is 
not  covered  with  impenetrable  clouds.  Through  the  rifts 
golden  rays  come,  and  upon  this  sea  of  life,  tossed  as  it  is 
sometimes  with  tempests,  there  is  heard  a  voice  which 
says  :  '  Be  not  afraid.'  v 

"  You  are  happy  in  your  faith,  Miss  Wordsworth. 
Would  that  I  could  share  it !  But  while  I  would  not,  if  I 
could,  disturb  to  the  slightest  extent  the  beautiful  repose 
of  your  nature  upon  a  base  that  seems  to  you  so  solid,  I 
should  be  uncandid  if  I  did  not  say  to  you  how  hard  I  find 
the  task  of  submitting  my  reason  to  the  dominion  of  any 
system  which  I  do  not  comprehend.  I  see  the  beauty  of 
Christianity,  but  I  do  not  understand  its  great  mysteries." 

"  And  do  you  not  intend  to  seek  to  explore  what  is  so 
awful  in  its  relations  to  us  ?  Surely  you  will  not  live  so 
as  to  have  it  said  of  you,  with  all  your  rich  endowment  of 
mind,  in  the  language  of  my  namesake,  William  Words 
worth  : 

4  The  intellectual  power  through  words  and  things 
Went  sounding  on  a  dim  and  perilous  way." 

"  I  should  be  too  happy,"  he  said,  "  to  be  able  to  make 
my  escape  from  a  path  which  the  Poet  of  the  Lakes  has  so 
powerfully  described  ;  but  how  shall  it  be  done  ?  I  stand 


DE  VANE.  167 

upon  a  sea  of  doubt,  and  if  I  would  borrow  wings  to  bear 
me  across  it,  I  fear  that,  like  those  of  Icarus,  they  would 
fail  me,  and  leave  me  to  perish  in  the  waves." 

"  You  will  perish,  if  you  trust  to  any  of  the  inventions 
of  man.  There  is  one  book  that  teaches  us  the  way  to  the 
invisible  world,  where  the  good  of  all  ages  will  be  assem 
bled.  The  teachings  of  man  will  mislead  us.  The  world 
is  full  of  illusions  ;  it  deceives  and  flatters  :  but  the  Bible 
does  neither.  It  teaches  that  even  the  best  must  suffer. 
It  invites  us  to  tread  a  narrow  path,  but  it  is  a  path  which 
the  true,  the  good,  the  heroic  have  trod.  Suffering  and 
tears  have  stained  it ;  but  the  feet  of  Him  who  came  to 
seek  and  to  save  that  which  was  lost  have  consecrated  it." 

They  walked  on  in  silence.  The  western  heaven  was 
resplendent.  The  clouds  which  floated  through  it  seemed 
to  be  phantom  ships,  their  sails  illumined.  The  delicate 
opal  spread  wide  above  the  deep  orange  that  rested  on  the 
horizon.  A  single  star  glittered  in  the  pure  depths  of  bound 
less  ether.  A  shoreless  sea  of  glory  appeared  to  stretch 
beyond  the  visible  objects.  Esther  stood  gazing  upon  the 
glowing  heavens.  She  seemed  to  forget  the  presence  of 
De  Vane.  The  lingering  light  played  upon  her  features, 
and  kindled  a  glory  about  her  brow,  such  as  the  old  paint* 
ers  love,  to  trace  upon  the  head  of  the  Virgin ;  and  she 
uttered,  in  tones  scarcely  audible,  those  words,  so  full  oi 
consolation  to  a  stricken  world  :  "  God  is  love." 

De  Vane  never  forgot  the  picture.  It  entered  his  soul, 
and  spread  through  it  the  light  of  immortal  beauty.  Upon 
the  wide  sea  and  in  far  distant  lands,  he  often  recalled  it ; 
and  the  words  uttered  by  those  pure  lips,  over  which  no 
earthly  passion  had  ever  breathed,  sounded  in  his  ears  as 
if  .a  celestial  being  spoke  to  him. 

Neither  moved  for  some  minutes.  Esther  then  turned 
to  De  Vane,  and  said  : 

"  It  is  time  we  should  return." 


168  DE  VANE. 

They  retraced  their  steps  to  the  gate  of  the  graveyard, 
where  Mr.  Springfield's  crariage  was  drawn  up,  awaiting 
Esther.  She  invited  De  Vane  to  take  a  seat  with  her,  and 
he,  handing  her  into  the  carriage,  entered  it  also  ;  and  they 
drove  away.  When  they  reached  Mr.  Springfield's  re 
sidence,  that  gentleman  came  to  the  carriage  to  receive 
Esther,  and  seeing  De  Vane,  invited  him  to  go  in  with  them 
and  pass  the  evening.  The  invitation  was  accepted.  It 
was  the  first  time  that  he  had  taken  tea  in  this  way  with 
the  family.  His  evenings  had  frequently  been  passed  there, 
but  he  had  called  at  a  later  hour,  and  somewhat  in  a  formal 
way ;  and  as  he  took  his  seat  at  the  table,  he  felt  that  he 
was  now  really  welcomed  into  the  unrestrained  confidence 
of  the  house,  as  a  friend.  There  is  a  charm  about  the  ease 
and  unrestraint  of  sitting  down  to  a  tea-table  in  the  even 
ing  with  friends.  It  dissolves  the  little  frost-work  of  cer 
emony  instantly  ;  familiar  topics  spring  up,  and  we  discuss 
in  a  genial  way  whatever  interests  us. 

The  table  was  spread  with  luxuries  ;  early  fruits,  straw 
berries  abounded,  and  rich  cream,  and  snowy  curds.  Flow 
ers  were  on  the  table,  and  they  lent  a  refreshing  air  of  re 
finement  to  it.  Mrs.  Springfield  did  not  disdain  house 
keeping,  and  the  tastefulness  of  her  establishment  and  the 
elegance  of  her  entertainments  were  universally  known. 
What  a  charm  there  is  about  such  a  home  !  How  the  pic 
ture  comes  up  to  us  now  of  one  in  the  far  South,  where 
purity  and  goodness,  and  unwearying  kindness,  and  the 
patient  ministry  of  self-sacrificing  love,  abounded  !  The 
presiding  form  is  gone ;  the  true,  steady  blue  eyes  are 
closed,  and  the  busy  hands  gently  laid  across  each  other  in 
the  still  sleep  which  will  not  last  always  ! 

Esther  sat  opposite  to  De  Vane,  and  never  appeared  more 
attractive.  Her  pure  white  dress  was  becoming  to  her, 
and  in  her  rich  hair  she  wore  wild  flowers,  the  long  crim 
son  drops  mingling  with  her  curls.  r>  • 


DE  VANE.  169 

"  Is  it  your  first  visit  to  our  graveyard,  Mr.  De  Vane  ?" 
asked  Mr.  Springfield. 

"  Yes,  my  first." 

"  We  often  go  there,  and  find  it  any  thing  but  a  gloomy 
place.  There  should  be  more  care  bestowed  upon  it,  and 
then  I  think  it  would  be  really  attractive." 

"  Yes,  I  think  so.  I  was  surprised  to  find  so  much  taste 
displayed  in  the  tombs ;  for  often  one  is  offended  by  the 
neglected  graves  which  he  sees,  or  by  the  bad  taste  shown 
in  their  decoration." 

"  I  have  often  observed  it,"  said  Mr.  Springfield  ;  "  for 
I  make  it  a  rule,  in  my  travels,  always  to  visit  the  burial- 
places  of  the  cities,  and  even  villages,  where  I  stop  for  a 
day  or  two.  To  read  the  epitaphs  is  to  me  a  source  of 
endless  interest." 

"And  how  strange  some  of  them  are  !"  said  De  Vane, 
"  It  is  a  department  of  literature  which  brings  the  ludicrous 
into  sad  juxtaposition  with  grief." 

"  Yes  ;  it  is  too  true." 

"  I  was  much  pleased,"  said  Esther,  "  with  Washington 
Irving's  description  of  Westminster  Abbey.  How  impress 
ive  it  must  be  to  walk  through  it,  to  look  down  upon  the 
marble  forms  of  old  heroes,  stretched  at  full  length ;  their 
faces  upturned,  their  hands  meekly  closed,  as  if  in  prayer — 
in  full  armor,  but  the  sword  laid  aside  forever  !" 

"  It  is  the  most  beautiful  of  all  his  sketches,  I  think," 
said  De  Vane. 

"  One  epitaph  which  he  mentions,"  said  Mr.  Springfield, 
"  is  singularly  affecting.  It  is  an  inscription  on  a  family 
tomb :  '  All  the  brothers  were  brave,  and  all  the  sisters 
virtuous.' " 

"  Very  fine,"  said  De  Vane. 

"  Far  the  most  beautiful  cemetery  that  I  have  visited," 
said  Esther,  "  is  Laurel  Hill,  near  Philadelphia.    At  the  en 
trance,  carved  in  brown  stone,  stands  a  group  which  arrests 
8 


170  DE  VANE. 

you  at  once :  Sir  Walter  Scott — Old  Mortality — and  his 
pony.  It  is  very  appropriate,  and  gives  an  air  of  cheer 
fulness  to  the  grounds.  The  tombs,  too,  are  pretty,  some 
of  them  fine ;  and  the  Schuylkill  winds  silently  by  the 
grounds,  as  if  unwilling  to  disturb  the  repose  of  the  place." 

"  It  made  the  same  impression  on  me,"  said  Mrs.  Spring 
field. 

"  I  have  never  seen  it,  but  I  must  do  so,"  said  De  Vane. 
"  Tour  description  is  a  charming  one." 

"  What  do  you  think,  Mr.  De  Vane,"  asked  Mr.  Spring 
field,  "  of  the  manner  of  disposing  of  the  dead  by  some  of 
the  ancients — burning  the  bodies  ?" 

"  It  has  something  to  recommend  it.  It  takes  away  the 
dreadful  idea  of  slow  decay,  and  enables  the  surviving 
friends  to  preserve  the  precious  ashes  in  an  urn,  which  may 
at  all  times  be  visited  with  satisfaction.  But  it  must  be 
appalling  to  see  the  remains  of  one  dear  to  us  suddenly 
and  utterly  consumed." 

"  Oh !  yes,"  said  Esther  ;  "  dust  to  dust,  as  in  our  Christ 
ian  mode  of  interment,  is  the  most  consolatory  mode,  after 
all,  of  putting  out  of  sight  those  we  love." 

"  Do  you  remember,"  said  De  Vane,  addressing  himself 
to  her,  "  the  scene  described  in  regard  to  the  remains  of 
Shelley  ?  He  was  drowned  in  the  Bay  of  Spezzia,  having 
set  sail  in  his  boat  from  Leghorn,  where  he  had  been  to 
make  a  visit :  a  storm  came  on,  and  all  on  board  perished. 
When  the  remains  were  found,  it  was  decided  to  burn 
them  ;  and  the  act  ^as  performed  in  accordance  with  what 
it  may  be  supposed  would  have  been  the  poet's  wishes. 
Frankincense  and  wine,  and  other  classical  materials  for 
burning,  were  used ;  and  the  flame  arising  from  the  pile 
was  observed  to  be  of  extraordinary  beauty.  Lord  Byron 
was  present." 

"  Poor  Shelley  !"  said  Esther,  "  his  life,  death,  and  every 
thing  seemed  to  be  in  harmony  with  nothing  but  the 


DE   VANE.  171 

ideal.  But  his  friends  were  sensible  enough  to  take  his 
ashes,  and  deposit  them  in  the  Protestant  burial-ground 
at  Rome." 

"  What  a  thrilling  description,"  said  De  Vane,  "  Virgil 
gives  of  the  death  of  Dido  !  She  mounts  the  pile,  made 
of  objects  dear  to  her  by  association,  and  yet  filling  her 
with  anguish,  and  stabs  herself  before  the  flames  are  kin 
dled,  which  are  to  mingle  the  ashes  of  the  cherished  me 
morials  with  her  own.  ./Eneas,  looking  back  from  the  sea, 
beheld  the  walls  glowing  with  the  flame  from  the  funeral 
pile  of  the  unhappy  queen,  whom  his  desertion  had  filled 
with  despair." 

"  What  a  picture  !"  said  Esther.  "  She  acted  under  the 
impulse  of  womanly  passion,  without  the  principles  of  a 
pure  faith  to  guide  her,  or  its  consoling  truths  to  sustain 
her." 

"  To  me,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  nothing  in  connection 
with  burying  the  dead  is  more  impressive  and  touching 
than  the  conduct  of  Abraham  in  purchasing  the  cave  of 
Machpelah,  for  the  last  resting-place  of  Sarah." 

"  It  is,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield,  "  exquisitely  beautiful. 
The  noble  bearing  of  the  patriarch,  grand  even  in  his  grief, 
and  with  too  profound  a  respect  for  the  memory  of  his 
wife,  to  accept  a  burial-place  for  her  as  a  gift." 

"  Wonderfully  fine !"  seid  De  Vane,  "  and  it  is  to  be  ob 
served  how  much  importance  the  Hebrews,  from  the  ear 
liest  time,  attached  to  the  spots  where  their  remains  should 
rest.  I  was  impressed  with  this,  in  reading,  some  time 
since,  the  account  of  the  death  of  Joseph.  So  deep  was 
his  sentiment  in  regard  to  it,  that  he  took  an  oath  of  his 
brethren,  that  they  would  take  his  bones  with  them,  when 
they  went  up  to  the  land  of  promise." 

"All  the  early  nations,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "had  that 
sentiment,  so  far  as  we  are  able  to  learn  any  thing  respect 
ing  them.  The  pyramids  are  tombs,  undoubtedly." 


172  DE  VANE. 

"  Speaking  of  the  Egyptians,"  said  De  Vane,  "  reminds 
me  of  their  mode  of  preserving  the  bodies  of  their  dead, 
which  I  must  say  is  to  me  hideous." 

"  I  entirely  agree  with  you,"  said  Esther,  "  and  I  like 
vaults  as  little.  The  earth — the  fresh,  dear,  mother  earth 
— is  the  true  place  where  the  weary  should  lie  down  to 
rest." 

"  But  you  do  not  object  to  tombs  ?"  said  Mr.  Spring 
field. 

"  N"o  ;  but  they  must  be  light  and  graceful  to  please 
me.  At  least,  the  green  grass  and  the  wild  flowers  must 
spring  and  encircle  the  marble,  and  mark  the  outlines  of 
the  grave." 

"  Except  in  the  cases  of  great  men,"  said  De  Vane ; 
"  then  I  think  that  grandeur  should  be  the  prevailing  effect 
in  the  tomb." 

"  I  should  make  no  exceptions,"  said  Esther.  "  Death 
parts  us  from  the  great  world,  with  its  pomp  and  grand 
eur  ;  and  while  I  should,  of  course,  mark  the  spot  where 
an  eminent  man  sleeps,  by  some  appropriate  monument,  I 
would  surround  it  too  with  those  simple  things,  such  as 
flowers,  which  appeal  to  the  common  sentiment  of  human 
ity,  a  love  of  the  beautiful,  and  a  clinging  to  nature." 

"  But  would  you  not  break  the  impression,  and  mar  the 
efiect,  in  that  way  ?  The  lofty  column  is  to  express  the 
grand,  the  heroic ;  and  if  you  associate  with  it  objects  of 
simple  beauty,  you  lessen  the  veneration  which  the  struc 
ture  is  intended  to  raise  in  the  breast.  For  instance,  the 
tomb  of  Themistocles,  at  Athens,  overlooking  the  sea, 
where  his  genius  achieved  its  noblest  triumphs,  would  be 
less  impressive  if  the  grass  encircled  it,  or  flowers  entwin 
ed  it." 

"  The  artistic  effect  might  be  less,"  said  Esther,  "  though 
[  am  not  sure  of  that.  A  contrast  might  be  produced 
which  would  serve  to  heighten  the  aspect  of  grandeur ;  but 


DE  VANE.  173 

I  would  sacrifice  something  of  that  to  a  still  higher  ef 
fect  :  the  teaching  that  in  death  the  purest  sentiments  of 
humanity  are  shared  by  the  great  and  the  lowly — the 
fondness  for  nature,  and  the  love  of  the  beautiful." 

"  Then  you  prefer  rural  graveyards  to  the  finest  ceme 
teries  ?" 

"  Yes ;  but  I  would  intermingle  the  objects  of  nature 
with  the  works  of  art.  This  is  done  at  Laurel  Hill,  and 
will,  I  think,  be  carried  out  more  perfectly  as  our  country 
grows  older." 

"  I  certainly  hope,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  that  every 
thing  will  be  done,  that  can  be,  to  cultivate  the  taste  of 
our  people  for  the  beautiful.  We  are  in  great  danger  of 
becoming  too  practical,  and  I  confess  my  horror  of  the 
iitilitarian  philosophy.  It  is  pleasing  to  see  the  dead  cared 
for ;  and  it  must  be  a  generous  sentiment  which  strives  to 
perpetuate  the  memory  of  the  departed,  who  can  no  long 
er  serve  us.  And  even  if  the  display  which  we  sometimes 
witness  in  elaborate  tombs  be  intended  as  an  atonement 
for  neglect  to  the  person  while  living,  still  it  ought  to  be 
encouraged."  ;;:>0 

"  Speaking  of  country  churchyards,"  said  Mrs.  Spring 
field,  "  I  think  that  some  of  the  most  touching  testimonials 
of  affection  for  the  departed,  are  to  be  found  in  them. 
The  green  sod,  carefully  kept,  and  the  ever-springing  flow 
ers,  are  simple  but  beautiful  tributes." 

"  And  the  impression  which  such  a  spot  makes  upon  a 
person  of  refinement  and  sensibility,"  said  Esther,  "  is 
shown  in  Gray's  Elegy.  That  poem  alone  has  made  him 
immortal." 

"  And  ought  to  do  so,"  said  De  Yane.  "  The  sentiments 
are  as  noble  as  they  are  exquisitely  expressed." 

"  I  am  very  impatient  myself,"  said  Mr.  Springfield, 
"  of  any  thing  which  perpetuates  the  aristocratic  distinc- 


174  DE  VANE. 

tions  of  life  beyond  the  grave,  and  I  share  Mrs.  Spring 
field's  preference  for  rural  burying-places." 

"  It  is  a  sentiment,"  said  De  Vane,  "  which  every  gener 
ous  nature  must  sympathize  with ;  and  the  poetry  of  all 
ages  shows  this.  Shakespeare  comprehended  the  superi 
ority  of  natural  adornments  for  the  resting-places  of  the 
beautiful,  the  good,  and  the  innocent.  Laertes  says  of 

Ophelia : 

'  L  ay  her  i'  the  earth ; 
And  from  her  fair  and  unpolluted  flesh 
May  violets  spring  ! '  " 

"  I  well  remember  it,"  said  Esther ;  "  and  the  queen  says, 
as  she  scatters  flowers  in  the  grave : 

'  Sweets  to  the  sweet :  Farewell ! '  " 
"  Poor  Hamlet !"  said  De  Vane,  "  he  could  only  exclaim  : 

*  I  loved  Ophelia :  forty  thousand  brothers 
Could  not,  with  all  their  quantity  of  love, 
Make  up  my  sum.' 

His  love  was  too  intense  even  for  the  tribute  of  flowers  !" 
"  It  is  often  so  in  deep  grief,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield. 
"  But  when  the  grief  is  somewhat  softened,  then  we  come 
with  our  offerings.  Then  we  plant  the  sweetest  flowers, 
and  re-visit  the  spot  from  time  to  time,  to  train  them." 

"  One  of  the  most  perfect  odes  in  the  language,"  said  De 
Vane,  "  is,  by  some  law  of  association  which  I  do  not  ex 
actly  comprehend,  recalled  to  my  memory  by  your  re 
mark  ;  it  is  by  Collins.  He  pays  a  tribute  to  the  brave, 
sinking  to  rest  amidst  the  blessings  of  their  country — they 
sleep — and  lie  says  : 

*  When  Spring,  with  dewy  fingers  cold, 
Returns  to  deck  their  hallowed  mould, 
She  there  shall  dress  a  sweeter  sod 
Than  Fancy's  feet  have  ever  trod.'  " 


DE  VANE.  175 

"  It  is  perfect,"  said  Esther,  with  enthusiasm.  "  Nothing 
of  the  kind  can  be  finer.  The  dewy  fingers  of  Spring — 
cold — returning  as  if  her  sole  mission  were  to  dress  the  sod 
under  which  the  brave  sleep.  Ah  !  Mr.  Pe  Vane,  after  all, 
my  aunt's  country  churchyards  do  seem  very  sweet  rest 
ing-places." 

"  Yes,"  said  De  Vane,  "  nature  triumphs  over  art ;  and 
however  we  may  be  attracted  by  the  artificial  in  health  and 
prosperity,  our  tastes  must  become  purer  as  we  feel  the 
hand  of  the  destroyer  upon  us,  or  experience  any  great 
calamity." 

"And  yet,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "Lord  Kelson  exclaim 
ed,  upon  going  into  his  last  battle,  I  believe  :  '  Victory  or 
Westminster  Abbey !'  " 

"  Yes,"  said  De  Vane,  "  he  was  in  health,  and  felt  the 
excitement  that  a  brave  man  feels  when  going  into  battle. 
His  ambition  blazed  with  all  its  intenseness.  But  when  he 
received  his  wound,  which  he  felt  to  be  mortal,  his  tender 
sensibilities  triumphed,  his  affections  asserted  their  sway, 
and  he  spent  his  last  hours  in  making  some  provision  for 
the  woman  whom  he  loved." 

Esther's  face  glowed  with  interest.  The  extreme  beauty 
and  felicity  of  the  criticism  which  De  Vane  uttered,  she 
saw  clearly,  and,  turning  to  Mr.  Springfield,  she  said : 

"  I  think  Mr.  De  Vane  is  right." 

"  If  you  both  take  part  against  me,"  said  he  playfully, 
"  I  must  consider  myself  vanquished ;  but  instead  of  sur 
rendering  to  either  of  you  young  people,  I  shall  lay  my 
arms  down  at  the  feet  of  my  wife,  for  I  believe  she  first 
suggested  the  superiority  of  country  churchyards,  while 
you  were  both  disposed  to  have  them  a  good  deal  embel 
lished  by  art." 

"  Very  gallantly  done,"  said  Esther.  "  My  aunt  deserves 
the  trophies." 

"  I  shall  use  my  authority,  then,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield, 


176  DE  VANE. 

"if  a  triumph  is  decreed  me,  to  invite  you  all  into  the 
library,  where  we  shall  find  it  more  agreeable,  perhaps, 
than  here." 

She  rose  from  the  table,  and  they  all  followed  her. 

There  was  an  indescribable  charm  about  this  house.  A 
refined  taste  presided  over  all  its  arrangements,  and  De 
Vane  never  visited  it  without  feeling  refreshed,  as  one  does 
upon  quitting  the  dusty  plain  to  walk  in  the  midst  of  gar 
dens. 

He  sat  for  an  hour  longer,  conversing  with  Mr.  Spring 
field  upon  subjects  of  public  interest — for  both  were  ob 
servers  of  the  actual,  living  world,  much  as  they  loved 
books  ;  while  Mrs.  Springfield  and  Esther  employed  them 
selves  with  some  light  embroidery-work,  of  a  pattern  just 
introduced  from  Germany,  and  occasionally  took  part  in 
the  conversation. 

Happy  hours !  Time  glides  by  without  reminding  us 
of  his  flight.  Happy  homes !  where  the  duties  of  life  are 
not  overlooked,  and  where  the  heart  and  the  intellect  are 
both  improved  ;  where  taste  presides,  and  all  that  is  good 
in  our  nature  is  cheered  and  invigorated;  where  books, 
and  music,  and  cheerful  conversation  close  the  day,  and 
give  to  each  passing  evening  the  tribute  of  genial  natures. 


CHAPTER    XVTI. 


anks  to  thee,  my  worthy  friend, 
For  the  lesson  thou  hast  taught  I 
Thus  at  the  flaming  forge  of  life 

Our  fortunes  must  be  wrought  — 
Thus  on  its  sounding  anvil  shaped 
Each  burning  deed  and  thought!" 

LONGFELLOW. 

THE  summer  vacation  of  the  College  was  drawing  near. 
The  annual  examination  of  the  classes  was  about  to  com 
mence,  and  the  unusual  increase  in  the  number  of  the  stu 
dents  induced  the  Trustees  to  think  of  adding  another 
member  to  the  Faculty.  Hitherto  no  very  marked  atten 
tion  had  been  bestowed  upon  studies  which  had  a  theologi 
cal  tendency.  It  is  true  moral  philosophy  had  been  taught, 
and  well  taught,  and  natural  theology  had  not  been  over 
looked  ;  but  no  decided  training  was  given  to  those  in 
quiries  after  revealed  truth  which  every  one  who  compre 
hends  the  claims  of  Christianity  to  any  extent  must  feel  to 
be  so  transcendently  important.  The  religious  sentiment 
of  the  State  began  to  look  into  this  subject,  and  to  inquire 
into  the  reasonableness  of  bestowing  more  attention  upon 
studies  which  should  in  all  Christian  states  be  recognized 
as  of  the  highest  importance.  And  while  it  was  not  de 
sired  that  a  strictly  theological  school  should  be  opened  in 
the  College,  such  as  would  fit  young  men  for  the  ministry, 
yet  it  was  insisted  that  every  young  man  who  came  to  that 
seat  of  learning,  now  so  renowned  for  its  scholarship,  should 
be  instructed  in  that  department  of  knowledge  which  it 
8*  (177) 


178  DE  VANE. 

became  every  gentleman  to  understand  as  a  part  even  of 
polite  education.  The  great  argument,  so  long  urged, 
that  it  was  best  not  to  make  religious  instruction  a  part  of 
education,  because  it  might  give  a  bias  to  the  mind  of  the 
student  in  favor  of  some  particular  creed,  had  been  explod 
ed  ;  and  it  was  said,  in  reply,  that  the  soul  was  like  the 
earth — if  no  cultivation  were  bestowed  upon  it,  no  seed 
planted  which  might  yield  good  fruit,  it  would  surely  send 
up  noxious  weeds  and  poisonous  berries.  In  support  of 
this  view,  the  great  name  of  Lord  Brougham  was  quoted. 
That  nobleman,  statesman,  and  scholar  had  written  power 
fully  in  support  of  strengthening  the  bonds  of  society  by  a 
wider  diffusion  of  knowledge,  and  he  argued  in  favor  of 
spreading  along  with  the  elements  of  science  the  elements 
of  moral  truth,  as  eminently  conservative.  Happily  for 
England,  the  argument  prevailed  there,  and  the  prosperity 
of  the  empire  is  largely  indebted  to  this  system.  The 
mind  of  England  is  instructed  in  divine  truth,  and  the 
heart  of  England  is  filled  with  Christian  sentiment.  Her 
cross  of  St.  George  not  only  is  emblazoned  on  her  victori 
ous  standards,  but  her  rulers  learn  to  respect  the  authority 
of  the  Supreme  Ruler.  She  proclaims  her  trust  in  God 
everywhere — it  is  the  national  sentiment.  Walking  in 
the  streets  of  London,  in  the  very  midst  of  the  busiest  mart 
of  commerce  on  the  globe,  one  reads,  with  a  glow  of  ad 
miration,  upon  the  fa9ade  of  the  new  Exchange  the  words  : 

"  The  Earth  is  the  Lord's, 
And  the  fullness  thereof." 

This  is  a  part  of  public  education,  and  the  lesson  is  not 
lost  upon  the  people.  Proud  Empire  !  wherever  thy  flag 
floats,  Protestant  Christianity  goes  with  it. 

Happily  for  this  country,  the  same  sentiment  is  in  the 
hearts  of  many  of  the  people ;  and  in  those  States  where 
simple  and  evangelical  truth  is  best  known,  there  the  prin- 


DE   VANE.  179 

uiples  of  free  government  are  best  understood  and  the  or 
ganization  of  society  is  least  disturbed.  We  do  not  desire 
to  see  in  this  country  an  Established  Church,  but  we  do 
wish  to  see  CHRISTIANITY  recognized  as  the  basis  of  our 
institutions.  Happy  is  that  people  whose  God  is  the 
Lord! 

Appreciating  this  sentiment,  the  Trustees,  at  their  next 
session,  provided  a  chair  for  a  Professor  of  Sacred  Litera 
ture,  whose  duty  it  should  be  to  teach  Biblical  learning 
and  the  Evidences  of  Christianity. 

Waring  was  young,  but  he  was  well  known  to  the  Fa 
culty  and  the  Trustees,  and  he  was  unanimously  elected  to 
the  new  chair.  He  conferred  with  De  Yane  in  regard 
to  it. 

"  It  was  my  wish,"  said  he,  "  to  pursue  my  studies  with 
out  interruption,  and  to  fit  myself  for  the  work  of  the  min 
istry  as  rapidly  as  possible — I  mean  the  regular  itinerant 
work ;  but  I  confess  the  offer  of  this  place  does  draw  me 
powerfully.  It  will  enable  me  to  carry  out  some  of  my 
plans  sooner  than  I  could  otherwise  do  it — that  is,  to  travel 
in  Europe  and  the  East." 

"  Do  not  hesitate  a  moment,"  said  De  Vane  ;  "  it  is  the 
very  place  for  you.  Of  course  I  have  too  much  respect  for 
the  sacred  office,  and  too  much  regard  for  you,  to  venture 
to  obtrude  any  counsel  upon  you  in  reference  to  such  a 
question ;  but  if  you  will  allow  me  to  say  what  I  really 
do  think,  without  attributing  to  me  presumption,  I  will 
do  so." 

"  My  dear  De  Yane,  you  are  at  liberty  to  speak  to  me 
freely  upon  any  subject,  and  I  shall  be  glad  to  hear  your 
views." 

"  Then,  Waring,  I  think  that  the  new  Chair  is  the  place 
for  you.  I  am  not  prepared  to  judge  of  the  field  of  use 
fulness  which  the  traveling  ministry  opens  ;  but  with  rny 
knowledge  of  you,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that  the  College 


180  DE   VANE. 

will  afford  you  a  theatre  for  the  exercise  of  your  highest 
qualities.  There  are  many  who  can  instruct  the  people, 
but  fitness  for  such  a  place  as  the  Trustees  have  just  now 
originated  is  rare  indeed.  And  if  anywhere  the  great 
principles  of  truth  ought  to  be  taught  well,  it  is  certainly 
in  those  places  where  young  men  are  trained  for  life." 

"  The  traveling  ministry  requires  very  high  qualifica. 
tions,"  said  Waring,  "  far  higher  than  I  can  lay  claim  to. 
A  preacher  in  that  wide  field  meets  persons  of  all  classes — 
the  high  and  the  low,  the  rich  and  the  poor,  the  learned 
and  the  unlearned — and  he  ought  to  be  able  to  meet  the 
wants  of  all.  You,  of  course,  remember  Mr.  Springfield's 
description  of  St.  Paul,  his  discourse  on  Mars'  Hill,  at 
Athens  ?  That  will  give  you  some  idea  of  what  an  itiner. 
ant  preacher  has  sometimes  to  encounter.  Such  a  work 
demands  a  Wesley,  a  Whitefield,  an  Asbury,  when  its  larg 
est  requirements  are  met." 

"  You  must  not  understand  me  to  underrate  the  work  of 
a  traveling  minister — far  from  it ;  but  the  ordeal  of  a  life 
in  a  college  is  a  very  severe  one.  The  learning,  the  win 
ning  manners,  the  dignity,  the  firmness,  the  nameless 
qualities  which  constitute  a  gentleman,  and  which  no 
mere  scholarship  can  confer — these  I  know  you  to  possess, 
Waring,  and  you  must  not  withhold  them  from  our  Col- 
lege." 

"  I'm  very  much  obliged  to  you,"  said  Waring,  smiling ; 
"  and  I  am,  of  course,  gratified  to  witness  your  interest  in 
the  success  of  the  new  chair." 

"  Oh  !"  said  De  Yane,  laughing,  "  you  know  my  taste  for 
such  studies ;  and  if  I  do  take  a  wider  range  in  my  re 
searches  than  you  think  exactly  safe,  still  I  wish  to  see 
the  place  well  filled,  and  I  love  the  College." 

"  I  must  think  of  it,"  said  Waring,  "  and  confer  with 
Mr.  Springfield  about  it." 

"  I'm  sure  that  he  will  agree  with  me,"  said  De  Yane. 


DE  VANE.  181 

"Then,  "Waring,  we  shall  have  you  here  en  permanence, 
and  that,  I  think,  would  settle  the  question  as  to  my 
making  it  my  home." 

"  That  would  be  very  agreeable  to  me.  We  both  like 
the  place,  and  I  do  not  know  that  we  could  find  one  in  all 
the  world  that  has  more  attractions." 

"It  is  full  of  them.  Cultivated  people  abound  here; 
the  society  is  remarked  for  its  refinement ;  and  every  win 
ter  brings  us  the  first  men  of  the  State,  who  come  here 
either  as  members  of  the  Legislature,  or  to  attend  its  ses 
sion."  ',- 

"  Well,  let  us  take  our  walk,"  said  Waring. 

They  walked  in  the  direction  of  the  river,  and  in  their 
way  passed  the  shop  of  the  blacksmith,  whose  ringing 
blows  upon  the  anvil  saluted  the  young  gentlemen  as  they 
drew  near. 

"  There  is  your  friend  hard  at  w*ork,  De  Vane.  He  is  an 
industrious  fellow." 

"  Yes,  and  something  of  a  philosopher  in  his  way." 

"  How  are  you,  Mr.  Hobbs  ?"  said  De  Yane,  stopping  in 
front  of  his  door.  The  sparks  flew  as  the  blacksmith 
brought  down  his  heavy  hammer  upon  a  piece  of  glowing 
iron  which  he  had  just  taken  from  the  forge. 

"  Pretty  well,  thank  you,  sir,"  said  he.  "  How  d'ye  do 
yourself?" 

"Always  hard  at  work,  it  seems  to  me.  You  never 
rest,  do  you  ?" 

"  Of  nights,  and  Sundays,"  said  the  blacksmith,  shaping 
his  iron  with  quick  strokes.  "  Life's  short,  you  know,  sir, 
and  there's  a  heap  of  work  to  do." 

"  Yes,  but  what  time  do  you  take  to  read  ?"  asked  De 
Yane. 

"  Why,  you  see,  sir,"  the  blows  falling  thick  and  heavy 
upon  the  piece  of  iron,  which  now  began  to  take  the  shape 
of  a  horse-shoe,  "  these  days  are  pretty  long,  and  that  nig- 


182  DE   VANE. 

ger-boy  who  works  with  me  ought  to  have  a  chance  to 
rest  in  the  middle  of  the  day ;  so  I  bring  a  book  with 
me,  and  my  dinner,  too,  and  so  I  get  about  an  hour.  Then, 
at  home,  about  another  hour  after  supper,  and  of  Sun 
days,  all  day." 

"  What  are  you  reading  now  ?"  asked  De  Vane. 

He  gave  a  few  more  sharp,  quick  strokes  with  his  ham 
mer,  cut  off  the  shoe  from  the  bar  of  iron,  and  plunging  it 
into  the  furnace  again,  wiped  his  face  with  a  towel  that 
hung  near,  and,  stepping  to  a  shelf,  took  down  a  book  and 
brought  it  to  De  Vane.  It  was  an  illustrated  copy  of 
Bunyan's  Pilgrim's  Progress. 

"  There,"  said  he,  "  there's  a  book  that  my  wife's  been 
reading,  and  she  asked  me  to  read  it.  I've  got  nearly  half 
through,  and  it's  an  uncommon  book." 

Waring  smiled,  and  said :  "  Do  you  find  it  interesting  ?" 

"  Oh  !  yes,  sir — interesting  enough.  It's  as  good  as  a 
book  of  travels." 

"  The  journey  that  the  Pilgrim  is  making,"  said  Waring, 
"is  a  very  important  one." 

"Yes,"  said  the  blacksmith,  "and  he's  a  brave  fellow. 
I  think  he'll  get  through.  He's  not  afraid  of  the  devil 
himself." 

De  Vane  was  a  little  uneasy.  He  feared  the  blacksmith 
might  become  too  animated  in  his  descriptions.  Waring 
managed  him  very  well. 

"  You  observe,  however,"  said  Waring,  "  that  he  wore 
good  armor,  and  had  a  good  sword." 

"  Oh !  yes,"  said  the  blacksmith,  "  he  had  that  all  right. 
That  was  a  desperate  fight  he  had  with  that  fellow  Apol- 
lyon.  I  thought,  when  he  straddled  out  over  the  whole 
road,  that  Christian  was  in  a  bad  way ;  and  so  he  would 
have  been,  if  he  had  backed  at  all.  But  when  I  saw  him 
draw  his  sword,  I  knew  he  had  pluck  in  him,  and  I  felt 


DE   VANE.  183 

sure  that  he'd  do  to  depend  on ;  and,  sure  enough,  he  gave 
the  fellow  thunder." 

Waring  smiled,  and  De  Vane  laughed  heartily ;  but  the 
blacksmith  was  too  deeply  interested  to  observe  the  effect 
produced  by  his  remark. 

"  You  observe,"  said  Waring,  "  that  Christian  was  a 
man  of  courage.  That's  very  true,  but  do  you  know  what 
gave  him  courage?" 

"I  suppose  he  was  naturally  a  man  of  grit,"  said  the 
blacksmith. 

"  Not  only  so,"  said  Waring,  "  but  he  believed  that 
there  was  One  much  greater  than  himself,  who  was  able 
to  protect  him  if  he  kept  on  his  way ;  and  you  know,  too, 
that  he  was  going  to  the  city  where  his  great  Friend 
dwelt." 

"  Oh  !  yes,"  said  the  blacksmith,  "  it  helps  a  man  mightily 
to  know  that  he's  on  the  right  road  and  well  backed ;  but 
the  man  must  have  the  real  stuff  in  him  to  fight  against 
heavy  odds." 

"  When  you  have  finished  the  book,  Mr.  Hobbs,"  said 
Waring,  "I  should  like  to  talk  with  you  further  about  it." 

"  Very  well,  sir ;  I'd  like  to  see  you.  My  wife  asked  me 
to  read  the  book.  Miss  Wordsworth  gave  it  to  my  little 
girl  last  Christmas ;  and  my  wife  is  a  member  of  the  same 
church  with  that  young  lady.  She  says  the  book's  inter 
esting,  and  I  think  so  too.  She'll  read  any  thing  that 
Mrs.  Springfield  or  Miss  Wordsworth  asks  her  to  read  ; 
for  she  believes  in  'em." 

"  Well,  Mr.  Hobbs,"  said  De  Vane,  "  I  shall  send  my 
horse  round  to  have  that  right  shoe  behind  rasped.  He 
cuts  his  ankle." 

"  Yes,  sir,  do.  The  infernal  rascal  won't  stand  still  long 
enough  to  let  me  fit  his  shoes ;  but  I'll  put  it  right.  He's 
a  fine  horse,  but  he's  got  the  spirit  of " 

"  Well,  never  mind,"  said  De  Vane,  quickly.     "  You'll 


184:  DE  VANE. 

rasp   the  shoe   a   little   on   the  inside.     Don't  take  the 
trouble  to  change  it.     Good  evening." 

"Good  by,  gentlemen,"  said  the  blacksmith,  walking 
up  to  his  furnace,  and  grasping  his  iron  bar. 

The  young  gentlemen,  as  they  walked  on,  soon  heard 
his  ringing  strokes  once  more. 

"The  blacksmith  is  a  character,"  said  Waring.  "His 
industry  sets  an  example  worth  following." 

"  Yes,"  said  De  Vane,  "  there  is  to  me  a  charm  in  such 
a  scene — a  stalwart  fellow,  shaping  iron  with  lusty  strokes, 
and  full  of  independence  and  cheerfulness.  I  sometimes 
call  at  his  shop  to  talk  with  him." 

"  I  see  that  he  is  a  friend  of  yours.  His  running  re 
marks  upon  the  Pilgrim  interested  me.  They  are  pert  and 
natural.  The  idea  that  Christian  would  have  been  over 
come  if  he  had  backed,  was  capital ;  and  his  opinion  that 
it  helped  a  man  to  feel  that  he  was  well  backed  had  pith 
in  it." 

"  I  should  like  to  hear  him  review  the  whole  book  when 
he  has  finished  it,"  said  De  Vane ;  "  it  would  be  far  more 
entertaining  than  many  lectures  that  we  hear." 

"  I  feel  a  strong  sympathy  with  such  men,"  said  Waring. 
"  What  a  respect  the  man  has  for  his  wife !  She  is  a  gen 
uine  Christian,  and  Hobbs  knows  it ;  and  it  is  beautiful  to 
see  the  ascendency  which  a  pious  woman  acquires  over 
such  a  man ;  strong,  courageous,  manly,  honest,  and  yield 
ing  meekly  to  the  admonitions  of  a  mild  woman.  O  De 
Vane !  I  wish  the  Christian  world  saw  this  more  clearly. 
There  would  be  far  more  toleration  for  unconverted  men 
of  high  qualities  than  we  witness  now.  With  all  the 
faults  of  that  sturdy  smith,  and  with  his  proneness  to 
swear,  yet  I  feel  a  respect  for  him.  He  is  respectful  to  his 
wife,  tender  to  his  children,  and  would  fight  for  any  cause 
that  he  thought  good." 

"Yes,  there  is  nothing  of  meanness  in  him.    His  heart  is 


DE   VANE.  185 

large,  and  he  is  fond  of  books,  which  gives  me  a  fellow- 
feeling  for  him,  rough  as  he  is." 

"Such  men  almost  certainly  come  under  religious  in 
fluence.  Their  very  frankness  disposes  them  to  receive 
great  truths  with  favor." 

"  I  find  myself  benefited,"  said  De  Vane,  "  by  my  visits 
to  his  shop.  The  energy  with  which  he  brings  down  his 
hammer  is  positively  exhilarating,  and  the  perseverance 
with  which  he  takes  up  a  rough  piece  of  iron,  and  shapes 
it  into  some  implement  for  agriculture,  or  a  shoe  for  the 
foot  of  a  horse,  never  fails  to  teach  me  a  lesson.  I  go  from 
him  with  firmer  resolve  to  shape  the  affairs  of  life  with 
vigor,  and  I  find  myself  roused  to  new  ardor  and  activity. 
The  truth  is,  I  have  a  sincere  respect  for  a  laboring  man  : 
he  is  the  pioneer  of  civilization ;  his  strong  arm  and  honest 
heart  are  powerful  in  forming  society,  and  building  up  a 
state." 

"  Yes,"  said  Waring,  "  a  thousand  times  greater  respect 
than  for  idlers  and  drones,  who,  because  they  have  the 
means  of  living  without  labor,  fancy  that  the  exemption 
from  toil  constitutes  them  gentlemen." 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  De  Vane,  "  must  poss«s  the  quality 
that  Cicero  says  is  essential  to  an  orator.  You,  of  course, 
remember  his  remark,  that  no  one  but  a  good  man  could 
be  an  eloquent  one,  upon  the  principle  that  he  must  rouse 
the  higher  qualities  of  our  nature,  if  he  would  move  us  by 
his  oratory ;  and  while  I  regard  the  social  distinctions  ot 
life  as  of  very  great  importance,  yet  I  am  quite  ready  to 
admit  that  you  may  find  gentlemen  in  all  classes.  It 
would  be  a  great  calamity  if  it  were  not  so.  One  who  is 
honest,  has  self-respect,  and  is  considerate  of  the  feelings 
of  others,  is  a  gentleman,  no  matter  where  you  find  him." 

"  I  never  heard  a  better  definition  anywhere,  De  Vane. 
I  approve  it  heartily.  Cicero's  definition  is  not  so  feli 
citous,  though  he  may  have  intended  to  embrace  some- 


186  DE  VANE. 

thing  more  than  to  live  honestly,  or  rather  honorably,  by 
his  phrase." 

"As  to  what  the  world  calls  honor,  it  is  wholly  unre 
liable  ;  it  is  artificial  and  heartless.  The  code  is  frigid,  and 
some  of  the  worst  men  on  earth  profess  the  greatest  regard 
for  it." 

"  I  thoroughly  agree  with  you,"  said  Waring.  "  I  could 
point  to  one  or  two  such  instances.  A  gentleman  is  a 
gentleman  always,  with  the  code  or  without  it.  The  code 
of  honor  restrains  some  men  undoubtedly,  who  would  act 
much  more  mischievously  without  it  than  they  are  allowed 
to  do  in  view  of  its  penalties ;  but  a  gentleman  is  a  true 
man,  whose  real  refinement  and  nobleness  no  code  can 
express." 

"Yes,  the  quality  that  makes  a  gentleman  belongs  to 
the  inner  man,"  said  De  Vane.  "A  gentleman  always 
yields  the  best  room  to  a  lady  at  an  inn ;  gives  her  the 
most  comfortable  chair ;  sees  that  she  has  access  to  the  fire ; 
considers  her  feelings,  by  saying  and  doing  nothing  which 
can  offend  her  sensibility ;  spares  a  poor  man  every  mor 
tification,  and  treats  a  little  child  with  kindness.  A  gentle 
man  spares  th>  weak  and  confronts  the  strong.  He  go 
verns  his  life  by  the  proud  maxim  of  the  great  empire : 

*  Parcere  subjectis,  et  debellare  superbosS  " 

"In  short,"  said  Waring,  "he  has  very  thoroughly 
studied  the  thirteenth  chapter  of  the  First  Epistle  to  the 
Corinthians." 

"  Waring,"  said  De  Vane,  "  here  we  are  upon  the  river- 
bank.  Just  here  we  met  Mr.  Springfield  first,  you  re 
member." 

"  I  very  well  remember  it,"  said  Waring.  "  It  seems 
but  a  short  time,  and  yet  it  has  been  months.  Let  us  make 
them  a  visit  this  evening ;  the  sooner  I  advise  with  Mr 


DE  VANE.  187 

Springfield  in  regard  to  my  affairs,  the  better ;  for  I  must 
decide  promptly." 

"  I  am  quite  at  your  service,"  said  De  Yane. 

They  retraced  their  steps  to  Mrs.  Bowen's,  and  after  tea 
they  made  their  visit  to  Mr.  Springfield's. 

The  moment  they  entered  the  house,  Mrs.  Springfield 
came  forward,  and  said  with  animation : 

"  Mr.  Waring,  I  congratulate  you.  We  are  all  very 
happy  to  learn  that  you  are  to  take  the  new  chair  in  the 
College." 

"  I  came  to  talk  over  that  matter.    Is  it  already  settled  ?" 

"  Definitively  and  irreversibly.  Mr.  Springfield,  Esther, 
and  I,  all  say  so.  Are  Ave  not  right,  Mr.  De  Yane  ?" 

"  Perfectly  so,  madam,,"  said  De  Yane.  "  I  do  not  see 
that  Mr.  Waring  can  hesitate  about  it.  We  have  gone 
over  the  ground  together  already,  but  he  reserved  his 
decision  until  he  could  hear  Mr.  Springfield's  views." 

"  He  will  join  us  in  a  few  moments ;  he  accompanied 
Esther  to  make  a  call,  at  the  hotel,  on  some  friends  of  ours 
from  Georgia,  who  are  on  their  way  to  the  North,  to  pass 
the  summer  at  some  of  the  watering-places.  They  will  soon 
be  in." 

"  And  you  think,  Mrs.  Springfield,  that  I  ought  to  accept 
the  professorship  ?" 

"  I  have  not  the  shadow  of  a  doubt  about  it.  If  I  had 
been  called  on  to  arrange  a  plan  of  life  for  you,  I  could  not 
have  more  satisfactorily  accomplished  it.  There  is  every 
thing  to  recommend  it.  You  will  make  your  influence 
felt  in  the  best  way,  and  your  tastes  will  be  gratified  with 
out  any  sacrifice  of  your  sense  of  duty." 

"  That  is  just  the  point,"  said  Waring,  "  where  I  am  not 
clear.  The  place  would  be  so  agreeable  to  my  tastes,  that 
I  can  hardly  feel,  in  deciding  to  accept  it,  that  I  am  not 
yielding  to  my  inclinations,  and  shrinking  from  the  rougher 
path  of  duty." 


188  DE  VANE. 

"  Mr.  "Waring,  you  know  my  interest  in  the  great  work. 
I  wish  to  see  it  prosper ;  but  I  assure  you  that  the  want 
of  our  Church  at  this  time  is  men  who  can  influence  senti 
ment  in  the  higher  circles  of  life." 

Waring  was  silent  for  a  minute  or  two.  The  view  just 
presented  had  not  been  overlooked  by  him,  but  he  feared 
that,  in  entertaining  it,  he  was  encouraging  his  own  wishes. 
Now  that  it  was  brought  before  him  so  directly,  and  by 
one  so  much  esteemed  by  him  as  Mrs.  Springfield,  he  felt 
it  in  all  its  force.  Who  has  not  found  himself  guided 
aright  by  some  woman  of  sense  and  character,  in  a  moment 
of  doubt  or  hesitation  ?  There  is  an  unspeakable  satisfac 
tion  in  the  counsels  of  a  true  woman.  The  heart  is  loyal, 
the  perceptions  clear,  the  mode  of  .presenting  truth  capti 
vating  ;  and  he  who  has  for  a  friend  such  a  woman,  may 
safely  trust  her  when  the  strength  of  men  would  fail,  and 
the  wisdom  of  men  would  be  at  fault.  O  woman  !  loyal, 
noble,  courageous,  generous  woman  !  may  we  never  want 
thy  words  of  sympathy  to  cheer,  nor  thy  counsels,  unself 
ish  and  true,  to  guide  us  ! 

At  this  moment  Mr.  Springfield  and  Esther  came  in, 
and  they  both  tendered  their  congratulations  to  Waring. 
Esther  seated  herself  without  removing  her  hat,  and  was 
very  animated. 

"  So,  then,"  said  Waring,  "  you  all  say  that  I  must 
accept  ?" 

"  There  ought  not  to  be  the  slightest  hesitation,"  said 
Mr.  Springfield.  "The  subject  is  not  new  to  me ;  I  have 
long  considered  it.  In  my  judgment,  the  traveling  minis 
try  is  very  important ;  the  beneficent  results  of  the  system 
can  not  be  overrated :  but  there  are  other  departments  of 
the  service,  where  certain  qualifications  are  demanded, 
that  can  not  be  readily  supplied.  To  suppose  that  no  one 
can  labor  properly  or  effectively  but  in  the  itinerant  work,  is 
so  extravagant,  that  it  is  not  worth  our  while  to  consider 


DE  VANE.  189 

the  question  in  that  light.  To  say  so,-would  at  once  ignore 
the  usefulness  of  the  ministry  of  every  Church  but  our  own  ; 
and  neither  you  nor  I  can  consent  to  do  that." 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  Waring. 

"  Besides  this,"  continued  Mr.  Springfield,  "  the  Meth 
odists  of  this  country  ought  not  to  limit  their  aims  to  a 
mere  control  of  the  popular  mind.  Our  doctrines  are  in- 
contestably  sound.  We  must  bring  the  higher  classes  under 
their  influence  :  the  cultivated,  the  learned — these  we  must 
deal  with.  We  already  number  in  our  ranks  such  persons, 
as  you  very  well  know ;  but  it  is  not  to  be  denied,  that  our 
access  to  that  class  is  difficult.  Our  influence  over  per 
sons  of  taste  and  refinement  must  be  increased,  otherwise 
our  children  will  depart  from  us ;  and  as  society  becomes 
matured,  other  churches  will  take  the  control  of  the  learned 
and  cultivated  classes,  leaving  us  to  perform  the  task  of 
pioneers." 

"  Certainly,"  said  Waring ;  "  the  Methodists  of  England 
are  acting  upon  your  views,  and  their  influence  is  spreading 
over  the  higher  classes." 

"  You  are  quite  right,  and  it  ought  to  be  so.  Methodism 
was  born  in  the  first  university  in  the  world — Oxford. 
It  was  patronized  then  by  Lady  Betty  Hastings  ;  and  her 
sister,  Lady  Margaret,  married  one  of  the  Methodists  who 
accompanied  Mr.  Wesley  to  Georgia.  Her  sister-in-law, 
the  Countess  of  Huntingdon,  after  experiencing  the  power 
of  the  doctrine  taught  by  them,  became  the  friend  of 
Whitefield,  and  cooperated  with  the  Methodists,  through 
out  her  long  life,  in  the  most  marked  and  energetic  way. 
In  her  Chelsea  mansion,  near  London,  where  the  most  aris 
tocratic  and  fashionable  circles  were  habitually  met,  she 
established  a  place  for  preaching  ;  and  it  is  a  remarkable 
fact,  that  when  Whitefield  preached  there,  the  first  people 
of  the  realm  assembled  to  hear  him.  Chesterfield  heard 
him  there,  and  invited  him  to  his  chapel  at  Bratby  Hall. 


190  DE   VANE. 

His  wife,  and  her  sister,  the  Countess  Delitz,  both  accepted 
the  faith  as  taught  by  him,  and  died  in  it.  Horace  Wai- 
pole,  Hume,  Bolingbroke,  and  others,  heard  with  admira 
tion  the  eloquent  evangelist ;  and  Lord  St.  John,  a  brother 
of  Lord  Bolingbroke,  became  a  convert  to  the  doctrine 
which  he  preached,  and  died  in  the  hope  of  the  Gospel. 
A  prayer-meeting  was  established  in  London  by  ladies  of 
the  highest  rank.  The  Marchioness  of  Lothian,  in  declin 
ing  health,  the  Countess  of  Leven,  Lady  Balgown,  Lady 
Francis  Gardiner,  Lady  Jane  Mindard,  and  Lady  Mary 
Hamilton,  formed  a  part  of  the  company,  the  meetings 
being  held  alternately  at  their  houses ;  and  they  werB 
continued  for  years. 

"Subsequently,  in  the  most  aristocratic  quarter  of  Lon 
don,  the  meeting  was  conducted  by  the  Countess  of  North 
cote  and  Hopetown,  the  daughters  of  Lord  Leven,  the 
Countess  of  Buchan,  Lady  Maxwell,  Lady  Glenachy,  Wil- 
helmina,  Countess  of  Leven,  with  her  sisters,  Lady  Ruth- 
ven  and  Lady  Bauff,  Lady  Henrietta  Hope,  and  Sophia, 
Countess  of  Haddington.  It  was  but  a  day  or  two  since, 
in  looking  into  some  strictures  upon  Methodism,  in  the 
Edinburgh  Review,  I  was  induced  to  take  up  the  Life  and 
Times  of  Lady  Huntingdon,  by  a  member  of  the  House  of 
Shirley  and  Hastings,  where  I  find  the  account  given  at 
length.  By  the  way,  it  is  a  book  which  will  interest  you 
greatly.  It  was  sent  to  me  from  Philadelphia,  and  is  at 
your  service." 

"  I  shall  read  it  with  great  interest,"  said  Waring.  "  The 
notices  which  I  have  seen  of  it  have  interested  me.  It  is 
believed  that  if  political  troubles  had  not  driven  Lord 
Bolingbroke  to  the  Continent,  he  would  have  yielded  to 
the  power  of  evangelical  religion.  It  is  unquestionably 
important  that  our  seats  of  learning  should  be  made  ac 
quainted  with  it,  and  I  did  not  at  all  underrate  the  import 
ance  of  the  place  which  is  offered  me ;  but  really,  it  was 


DE  VANE.  191 

so  tempting,  that  I  felt  some  distrust  of  my  own  judg 
ment." 

"  But  now,"  said  Esther,  "  you  will  accept  it  ?" 

"  I  do  not  see,"  said  he,  "  how  I  can  do  otherwise.  It  is 
only  too  pleasing  to  me  to  do  so ;  that  makes  me  doubt 
its  being  my  duty." 

"The  path  of  duty,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "is  not 
always  rugged." 

De  Yane  had  been  an  attentive  listener  to  the  conversa 
tion,  and  his  respect  for  Mr.  Springfield  and  for  Waring 
was  heightened  by  all  that  he  heard.  Both  were  earnest, 
both  took  the  largest  view  of  the  question,  both  divested 
it  of  its  personal  relations,  both  decided  in  reference  to 
considerations  which  even  the  great  Task-Master  might 
see  without  disapproval.  The  question  was  now  settled. 
Waring  was  to  take  the  new  Chair  in  the  College. 


CHAPTER 


"SOME  woes  are  hard  to  bear. 
Who  knows  the  past?  and  who  can  judge  us  right?" 

ROBERT  BULWEB  LTTTOH. 

SOME  days  after  Waring's  interview  with  Mr.  Spring 
field,  having  fully  made  up  his  mind  to  accept  the  Pro 
fessorship  to  which  he  had  been  elected  by  the  Trustees 
of  the  College,  he  called  on  Mr.  Clarendon  to  thank  him 
for  his  kindness  in  having  brought  about  that  result  ;  for 
that  gentleman,  being  a  member  of  the  Board,  and  know 
ing  the  preeminent  qualifications  of  his  young  friend  for 
the  task,  had  brought  him  forward  in  such  a  way  as  to 
concentrate  the  entire  vote  upon  him. 

"  You  owe  me  nothing,  Mr.  Waring,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon. 
"  I  love  the  College.  I  came  to  it,  from  Virginia,  a  young, 
ardent  man.  My  heart  expanded  in  the  College,  my  mind 
grew  and  strengthened  there,  and  I  am  zealous  for  its 
honor  and  success.  I  was  not  willing  to  see  our  new  Chair 
filled  by  a  mere  professional  teacher  of  religious  doctrine. 
I  wished  something  higher.  I  knew  well  your  qualifica 
tions,  your  sincerity  as  a  Christian,  your  thorough  scholar 
ship,  and  your  character  as  a  gentleman.  I  beg  you  to 
consider  me  your  friend,  sir,  and,  at  the  same  time,  a  friend 
to  the  College." 

Waring  was  deeply  impressed  with  the  frankness  and 
generosity  of  this  speech.  He  said: 

"I  can  only  assure  you,  Mr.  Clarendon,  of  my  wish  to 
serve  the  College  faithfully,  so  that  I  may  do  my  duty, 


DE   VANE.  193 

and  continue   to   enjoy   your  friendsl^p  and   confidence, 
which  I  have  long  prized." 

Mr.  Clarendon  gave  him  his  hand,  made  him  a  stately 
.bow,  and  asked  him  to  take  a  seat — they  were  standing 
in  the  library.  It  was  early  evening,  and  the  windows 
being  thrown  open,  the  western  sky  was  in  full  view.  The 
horizon  was  yet  glowing,  and  the  western  breeze  came 
freshly  through  the  shrubbery,  which  had  not  yet  lost  its 
sweetness.  Pedestrians  were  enjoying  the  fine,  fresh  air, 
and  carriages  rolled  through  the  handsome  streets,  filled 
with  ladies  without  their  hats.  The  capital  wore  its  bright 
est  summer  aspect.  The  two  gentlemen  were  in  conversa 
tion,  when  Mrs.  Habersham  and  Miss  Godolphin  drove  up 
in  a  light,  open  carriage,  and  without  alighting  from  it, 
sent  the  footman  to  ask  if  Mrs.  Clarendon  would  join  them 
in  their  drive.  Mr.  Clarendon  walked  to  the  carriage  to 
answer  the  invitation,  stating  that  Mrs.  Clarendon  had 
gone,  but  a  little  while  before,  to  drive  with  her  sister, 
Mrs.  Hallam. 

"Will  you  not,  ladies,"  said  he,  "come  in,  and  await  her 
return  ?" 

"  Oh !  no,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  we  must  continue  our 
drive;  and  I  think,  Mr.  Clarendon,  that  you  had  better 
join  us." 

"With  all  my  heart,"  said  he  gayly,  "provided  you  will 
permit  me  to  bring  a  young  gentleman  with  me.  A  proper 
man,  I  assure  you." 

"It  will  only  increase  our  pleasure,"  she  said. 

"Then  we  shall  join  you  in  a  moment."  And  returning 
to  the  house  for  Waring,  they  advanced  to  the  carriage. 

"Allow  me,  ladies,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "to  present  to 
you  Professor  Waring,  of  the  College  which  you  see  just 
over  the  way  there..  You  have  known  him  as  a  gay  young 
gentleman,  a  hard  student,  and  a  first-honor  man.  You 
aie  now  to  respect  him  as  a  grave  Professor. 
9 


194  DE  VANE. 

The  ladies  smilejj,  and  bowed  to  "Waring,  as  if  much  im 
pressed  with  his  new  dignity ;  and  the  gentlemen  took 
their  seats  in  the  carriage. 

"  So  you  accept  the  chair,  Mr.  Waring  ?"  said  Miss  Go-, 
dolphin. 

Waring  bowed. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  we  gave  him  no  chance 
to  decline.  The  Board  elected  him  and  forthwith  adjourn 
ed,  appealing  to  his  well-known  love  for  the  College,  to 
induce  him  to  accept." 

"We  are  very  much  pleased,"  said  Mrs.  Habersham, 
"  to  learn  that  Mr.  Waring  is  to  be  with  us.  I  feel  quite 
an  interest  in  securing  such  acquisitions  for  our  society." 

"  Nothing,"  said  Waring,  "  could  be  more  agreeable  to 
me,  than  such  an  arrangement.  I  love  the  College,  and  I 
love  the  town." 

"  And  of  course  the  people  in  it,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon. 

"  Of  course,"  replied  Waring,  "  and  the  people  in  it.  I 
should  be  very  ungrateful  if  I  could  be  indifferent  to 
them." 

"  Where  is  your  friend  Mr.  De  Vane,  Mr.  Waring  ?"  in 
quired  Miss  Godolphin.  "  We  were  wishing  to  meet  you 
both." 

"  It  is  impossible  to  say,"  replied  Waring,  "  where  Mr. 
De  Vane  is  to  be  found  at  this  moment.  He  had  walked 
out  when  I  called  for  him  some  two  hours  since,  and  it 
may  be  that  this  fine  evening  has  tempted  him  to  seek 
recreation  in  the  public  garden  after  a  day's  study." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  I'll  venture  to  say  that  he 
is  about  this  time  holding  a  professional  conversation  with 
his  friend  Swan,  about  the  cedars  of  Lebanon,  or  the  hys 
sop  on  the  wall,  or  some  new  plant  just  introduced  into  the 
public  garden.  Swan  thinks  him  a  prodigy,  and  has  no 
idea  that  King  Solomon  was  at  all  better  instructed  in  any 
department  of  knowledge  than  De  Vane." 


BE  VANE.  195 

The  ladies  laughed,  and  Mrs.  Habersham  instructed  the 
coachman  to  drive  to  the  garden. 

"  Our  object  at  this  time  in  seeking  Mr.  De  Vane,  is  to 
invite  him  to  join  us  to-morrow  evening.  To-day  we  were 
quite  surprised  at  receiving  the  card  of  Mile.  Yesperini, 
a  celebrated  cantatrice  whom  we  met  abroad.  She  is  here 
but  for  a  day  or  two,  and  we  wish  some  of  our  friends  to 
enjoy  the  pleasure  of  meeting  one  who  may  be  called  the 
queen  of  song." 

Mr.  Clarendon  and  Mr.  Waring  expressed  their  gratifi 
cation. 

The  carriage  was  approaching  the  garden.  It  was 
thronged  with  visitors.  Gay  groups  were  seated  and  en 
gaged  in  animated  conversation.  Others  filled  the  broad 
walks.  As  the  carriage  drew  up  opposite  one  of  the  prin 
cipal  gates,  De  Vane  and  Miss  Wordsworth  emerged  from 
it,  and  observing  the  party  who  had  just  arrived,  they  ap 
proached  them. 

"  Ah  !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Clarendon  gayly.  "  Mr.  De 
Vane,  like  your  great  progenitor,  you  have  just  quitted 
the  garden  abounding  with  delights.  Not  expelled,  I 
trust !  But  at  least,  like  him,  you  have  an  angel  to  walk 
ty  your  side." 

Esther  blushed  deeply. 

"  Yes,"  replied  De  Vane,  "  with  such  a  guide,  I  am 
content  to  explore  the  great  world." 

"  We  are  fortunate  in  meeting  you,  Mr.  De  Vane,"  said 
Miss  Godolphin,  "  and  to  find  you,  too,  with  Miss  Words 
worth.  We  called  at  Mr.  Springfield's  for  her,  as  we  set 
out  to  drive." 

Esther  expressed  her  regret  at  not  having  been  at  home 
to  receive  the  ladies. 

"  Not  at  all,"  replied  Miss  Godolphin  ;  "  it  is  far  better 
as  it  is.  We  are  to  receive,  to-morrow  evening,  Mile.  Ves- 
perini,  a  celebrated  cantatrice,  and  I  lay  my  commands 


196  DE  VANE. 

•*> 

on  you,  Mr.  De  Vane,  to  escort  Miss  "Wordsworth.     You 
are  both  indispensable,  and  you  must  come  together." 

De  Vane  bowed,  and  said  that  with  Miss  Wordsworth's 
permission,  he  would  undertake  to  execute  Miss  Godol- 
phin's  command.  Esther  expressed  her  approval  of  the 
arrangement,  and  the  carriage  dashed  on. 

"How  fortunate,"  exclaimed  Miss  Go  dolphin,  "I  met 
the  very  persons  I  most  wished  to  see  !  They  will  enjoy 
Mile.  Vesperini's  singing." 

"  There  are  no  two  persons,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  who 
will  appreciate  it  more." 

"  Do  you  know,  Mr.  Clarendon,  that  I  think  musical 
people  deserve  the  highest  honors  ?  In  Europe,  especially 
on  the  Continent,  they  take  rank  with  the  nobility.  They 
are  guests  of  princes.  People  of  the  highest  rank  receive 
them  into  their  houses  as  friends.  It  is  the  homage  that 
wealth  and  rank  pay  to  genius." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  when  in  Europe,  I  often 
observed  it.  In  Ireland,  I  met  at  the  house  of  Mrs.  Grant, 
of  Laggan,  a  young  Irish  lady  of  extraordinary  accom 
plishments.  She  was  fascinating,  and  her  singing  was 
unrivaled.  On  the  Continent,  too,  I  more  than  once  met 
families  from  Ireland,  and  the  ladies  were  in  every  in 
stance  superior." 

"  This  lady  is  very  young — certainly  not  yet  twenty- 
five,"  said  Miss  Godolphin ;  "  and  she  is  attended  by  an 
uncle — a  man  of  good  fortune,  who  glories  in  the  celebrity 
of  his  young  relative.  He  was  with  her  when  I  met  her 
in  Paris." 

"  In  that  respect,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  the  taste,  or 
rather  the  conventionalism  of  Europe  differs  widely  from 
our  own.  Persons  of  position  and  wealth  suffer  their  rela 
tives  to  enter  public  life  in  a  way  which  we  should  utter 
ly  condemn.  Their  love  for  the  fine  arts  is  such,  that  it 
gives  art  an  elevated  rank.  Mrs.  Siddons  was  not  only 


DE  VANE.  197 

received  everywhere,  but  she  was  sought,  and  sought 
eagerly,  in  the  most  aristocratic  circles.  And  even  when 
the  stage  proper  is  condemned,  that  is,  the  theatre,  persons 
of  genius  are  encouraged  to  appear  in  public  as  artistes,  in 
song,  in  recitation,  or  in  reading." 

"I  think  well  of  it,"  said  Miss  Godolphin.  "Genius 
should  always  be  tributary  to  the  advancement  of  so 
ciety." 

"  There  is  a  great  deal  of  stiffness  in  this  country,"  said 
Mr.  Clarendon,  "and  the  avenues  to  distinction  are  too 
few.  Politics  is  almost  the  only  pursuit  for  our  men,  and 
our  women  have  none.  Especially  ought  we  in  this  South 
ern  country  to  encourage  such  entertainments  as  Mrs. 
Habersham  proposes  to  give  us.  They  are  innocent,  and 
they  must,  while  they  prove  entertaining,  give  to  society 
a  heightened  refinement.  We  do  not  encourage  the  stage ; 
indeed,  we  proscribe  it,  and  I  think  very  properly.  It  be 
comes,  therefore,  a  high  social  duty,  to  contribute  in  some 
other  way  to  the  development  of  genius  and  the  advance 
ment  of  art." 

"  I  am  delighted  to  hear  you  speak  in  this  way,"  said 
Miss  Godolphin.  "  Our  entertainments  are  generally  flat, 
stale,  and  unprofitable.  What  we  call  parties,  are  often 
intolerable.  Dancing  may  do  for  very  young  people,  but 
surely  not  for  those  who  have  grown  to  any  consciousness 
of  what  a  serious  affair  life  is.  And  then  what  have  we 
left  ?" 

"Nothing  but  music  and  conversation,"  said  Waring; 
"but  they  are  every  thing." 

"  Yes,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "I  enjoyed  myself  more  at 
your  entertainment,  Mr.  Clarendon,  given  to  the  Duke  of 
Saxe- Weimar,  than  any  thing  of  the  kind  I  have  attended 
in  this  country." 

Mr.  Clarendon  bowed. 

"I  think,  Miss  Godolphin,"  he  said,  "that  receptions 


198  DE   VANE. 

where  guests  of  congenial  tastes  are  expected  to  call 
through  the  evening,  and  where  only  light  refreshments 
are  introduced,  far  more  rational  than  large  entertainments, 
where  every  thing  is  done  upon  an  extravagant  scale." 

"  Oh  !  and  a  thousand  times  more  agreeable.  In  Paris, 
and  Brussels,  and  other  capitals  on  the  Continent,  no  other 
evening  entertainments  are  known,  except  occasionally  a 
great  ball." 

"  The  ambassadors  give  their  dinners,"  said  Mr.  Claren 
don,  "  to  the  gentlemen ;  and  the  receptions  are  really  re 
freshing,  for  they  bring  together  people  of  taste,  and  cul 
tivation,  and  refinement ;  and  conversation  goes  on  in  a 
way  perfectly  charming." 

"  We  must  try  to  make  our  little  capital  very  agreeable, 
Mr.  Clarendon,"  said  Mrs.  Habersham,  "  and  next  winter 
I  shall  do  what  I  can  in  that  way." 

The  drive  was  a  delightful  one,  and  the  carriage  draw 
ing  up  before  Mr.  Clarendon's  door,  he  took  leave  of  the 
ladies  with  thanks  for  such  an  agreeable  hour. 

Waring  accompanied  them  to  their  residence,  and  Mrs. 
Habersham  insisting  that  he  should  not  walk,  the  carriage 
took  him  to  Mrs.  Bowen's  door,  where  he  was  warmly  re 
ceived  by  that  good  lady,  who  was  delighted  to  observe 
his  growing  intimacy  with  Miss  Godolphin. 

De  Vane  and  Esther,  after  quitting  the  party  in  the  car 
riage,  walked  leisurely  to  Mr.  Springfield's. 

"  How  animated  Miss  Godolphin  is  becoming  !"  said  De 
Vane.  "Waring  and  I  passed  an  evening  there  lately, 
and  we  found  her  really  bright." 

"I  have  observed  it.  She  is  very  fascinating.  I  can 
not  account  for  the  sadness  which  we  sometimes  observe 
in  her ;  but  even  that  heightens  my  interest  in  her.  When 
she  forgets  her  sorrow,  she  is  brilliant." 

"  The  suddenness  with  which  she  relapses  into  sadness," 


DE   VANE.  199 

i 

said  De  Vane,  "is  strange.  It  is  like  a  cloud  suddenly 
passing  over  the  sun." 

"  Or  a  bright  particular  star,"  said  Esther,  "  becoming 
dim  by  some  fleecy  vail,  .which  the  eye  can  only  perceive 
by  the  lessening  radiance  of  the  orb." 

"  Your  figure  is  perfect,"  said  De  Vane.  "  It  is  nothing 
known  to  us,  which  can  explain  the  fact ;  but  it  is  still 
a  fact,  that,  at  times,  when  Miss  Godolphin  seems  bright 
est,  she  suddenly  sinks  into  dejection.  She  is  a  person, 
too,  of  such  intellectual  strength,  that  it  makes  it  the 
more  difficult  to  account  for,  and  she  is  not  at  all  capri 
cious.  Her  opinions  are  fixed,  her  tastes  are  pure,  and  her 
character  is  resolute.  There  is  some  painful  memory,  pro 
bably,  known  only  to  herself,  which  throws  its  shadow 
across  the  path  of  her  life.  She  is  a  wonderfully  interest 
ing  person,  and  I  should  be  glad  to  see  her  happier  than 
she  seems  to  be." 

"  If  there  be  any  secret  sorrow,"  said  Esther,  "  it  must 
have  been  caused  by  something  that  befell  her  in  Europe. 
Her  history,  up  to  the  time  of  her  going  abroad,  is  well 
known ;  and  she  was  then  as  bright  and  joyous  as  possi 
ble,  having  nothing  whatever  to  cloud  her  happiness  but 
the  loss  of  relatives." 

"It  is  beautiful,"  said  De  Yane,  "to  see  her  when  she  is 
animated.  She  is  magnificent,  splendidly  beautiful,  and 
full  of  graceful  majesty.  She  looks  a  queen." 

"  I  have  often  thought  so,"  said  Esther.  "  She  is  singu 
larly  free  from  affectation,  and  her  unstudied  attitudes 
have  at  times  startled  me  by  their  classical  beauty,  and,  I 
may  say,  sublimity." 

"  The  Guilfords,  of  Virginia,"  said  De  Vane,  "  were  with 
her  in  Europe.  I  have  heard  her  speak  of  them,  and  when 
I  make  my  visit  to  that  State,  which  I  think  of  doing  next 
month,  I  may  be  able  to  find  a  solution  of  what  is  certain 
ly  a  mystery." 


200  DE  VANE. 

"  You  go  to  Virginia  next  month  ?"  said  Esther. 

"Yes,  I  must  make  my  father  and  aunt  a  visit.  It  has 
been  my  purpose  to  do  so  for  some  months.  Almost  three 
years  have  gone  by  since  I  saw  them,  and  it  is  proper  that 
I  should  make  them  a  visit  which  they  think  has  been 
already  too  long  delayed." 

"  It  is  certainly  proper,"  said  Esther,  "  and  must,  I  think, 
make  you  very  happy." 

"  It  will  certainly  be  pleasing,"  he  said,  "  to  revisit  rela 
tives  so  dear  to  me,  and  to  see  the  spot  where  very  early 
years  were  passed.  But  I  do  not  feel  that  Virginia  is  my 
home.  I  do  not  know  how  it  is,  but  this  is  the. only  place 
in  all  the  world  where  I  would  consent  to  live.  It  holds 
me  by  a  powerful  attraction ;  and  no  matter  where  I  may 
be,  when  I  quit  here  I  shall  feel  that  I  am  an  exile." 

He  spoke  with  great  animation,  and  his  face  beamed  as 
he  uttered  the  words. 

"  But,"  said  Esther,  "  may  not  a  return  to  your  Virginia 
home  revive  the  slumbering  attachment  to  that  place 
which  has  been  so  dear  to  you  ?" 

"  No,"  said  he,  "  never.  I  honor  and  love  Virginia,  and 
cherish  ancestral  recollections :  but  here  I  have  been  for 
the  first  time  conscious  of  my  own  faculties ;  here  I  have 
received  the  Promethean  heat  which  wakes  me  to  con 
scious  manhood;  here  I  have  learned  to  turn  upon  the 
world  and  survey  it,  to  compare  places,  study  society,  and 
know  for  myself  what  it  is  all  worth.  In  my  native  State, 
I  should  be  involved  in  all  the  meshes  of  conventional 
ism.  The  very  fact  of  residing  upon  an  estate  which  has 
come  down  to  me  through  more  than  one  generation,  while 
it  conferred  consideration,  would  commit  me  to  all  the 
rules  which  society  there  recognizes  as  so  imperious,  and 
I  could  not  be  myself.  If  I  had  never  gone  from  home,  it 
might  have  been  different ;  but  it  is  too  late  now.  I  have 
seen  the  world  in  its  largest  outlines.  I  have  learned  to 


DE  VANE.  201 

despise  its  little  conventional  ways.  I  would  to-morrow 
relinquish  my  claim  to  my  estate  before  I  would  consent 
to  hold  it  and  ignore  my  manhood." 

Esther  was  startled  by  his  earnestness.  She  had  never 
before  seen  him  so  roused.  She  did  not  know  that  he  had 
lately  received  letters  from  home,  appealing  to  his  ances 
tral  pride,  and  urging  him  to  return  and  fix  his  residence 
in  Virginia ;  that  Mrs.  Vane,  after  some  playful  criticism 
upon  his  own  letters,  in  which  he  had  betrayed  more 
plainly  than  before  his  admiration  of  Esther,  had  warned 
Jiim  against  being  ensnared  by  his  Methodist  friends,  who 
might  be  good  people  enough  in  their  way,  but  who  could 
not,  of  course,  be  suitable  to  his  matured  tastes,  or  do  for 
intimate  associates ;  and  had  at  some  length,  and  with  evi 
dent  seriousness,  portrayed  the  charms  of  the  beautiful 
Clara  Guilford,  and  hinted  at  the  advantages  which  such 
an  alliance  would  yield  him. 

He  continued  :  "  I  am  not  unambitious,  but  I  trust  that 
the  passion  with  me  is  an  honest  and  honorable  one.  I 
desire  distinction,  but  it  must  be  earned-— -not  inherited ; 
earned,  too,  by  a  career  of  usefulness — not  bought  with 
money,  nor  obtained  by  the  mean  arts  which  degrade  so 
many  public  men.  I  am  satisfied  that  the  dearth  of  high 
qualities  which  we  must  all  acknowledge,  is  the  result  of  the 
conventional  rules  of  life,  now  becoming  so  strong  in  this 
country.  Vigor  and  manliness  are  disappearing.  Wealth 
is  worshipped.  The  high  places  of  the  Republic  are  looked 
to  as  the  rewards  of  the  abject  followers  of  some  petty 
popular  potentate,  and  the  very  road  to  the  unseen  world 
which  we  are  assured  awaits  the  good,  is  hedged  in  by 
aristocratic  forms,  which  make  no  provision  for  the  poor 
and  the  outcast.  I  wish  to  be  a  man.  I  will  not  consent 
to  be  dwarfed  by  the  forms  of  society." 

He  was  splendid  in  his  enthusiasm.  Esther  had  never 
before  seen  him  roused  in  this  way.  His  very  form  seemed 
9* 


202  DE  VANE. 

to  dilate  with  the  grandeur  of  conscious  manhood,  and  his 
youthful,  vigorous  frame  seemed  fired  by  an  inspiration 
which  it  could  not  contain.  She  had  never  looked  into  the 
nature  of  the  interest  which  she  felt  in  De  Vane.  She  was 
conscious  of  a  very  deep  interest  in  him.  She  had  never 
loved,  and  she  had  never  before  met  one  who  even  roused 
her  admiration.  De  Vane  had  never  spoken  to  her  of  love, 
had  never  even  hinted  it  to  her ;  but  she,  of  course,  had 
seen  that  he  sought  her  society,  and  his  admiration  for  her 
was  too  marked  not  to  be  observed  by  herself,  as  well  as 
by  others.  Mrs.  Springfield  had  seen  it,  but  had  never 
spoken  to  Esther  on  the  subject.  Comprehending  her  well, 
she  knew  that  it  was  not  at  all  required ;  for  while  she 
knew  her  ardor,  she  knew  too  that  she  possessed  self-con 
trol,  and  would  never  permit  herself  to  become  too  deeply 
interested  in  any  one,  until  she  ascertained  that  her  sense 
of  duty  would  sufier  nothing  from  the  attachment.  War 
ing,  too,  had  been  very  attentive  to  Esther,  and  she  be 
lieved  that  her  niece  felt  a  certain  interest  in  him.  She 
thought  it  unnecessary  to  speak  to  her  about  either. 

Now  Esther  was  troubled.  She  was  really  agitated  by 
the  consciousness  of  her  sympathy  with  De  Vane,  and  she 
turned  her  eyes  upon  him  for  a  moment,  lustrous  with  the 
light  of  her  awakened  soul,  and  could  not  restrain  a  glance 
of  boundless  admiration  for  the  nobleness  of  the  sentiments 
which  he  uttered.  He  walked  by  her  side  for  some  mo 
ments  in  silence.  Neither  could  venture  to  speak.  De 
Vane  was  at  that  moment  conscious  of  an  intenser  regard 
for  Esther  than  he  had  ever  before  experienced ;  but  he 
was  not  prepared  to  speak  to  her  of  his  sentiments.  They 
were  not,  indeed,  sufficiently  defined,  and  he  had  no  present 
purpose  in  regard  to  her ;  though,  if  he  had  analyzed  his 
heart,  he  might  have  found  in  its  depths  the  wish  to  walk 
by  the  side  of  the  gloriously  beautiful  being  who  was  with 
him  now,  through  all  the  paths  of  future  life. 


DE  VANE.  203 

Yet  he  had  great  respect  for  his  father.  He  would  be 
reluctant  to  wound  even  his  pride,  to  offend  his  aristocratic 
tastes  ;  and  to  say  to  him  that  he,  his  son,  wished  to  take 
for  a  wife  this  young  disciple  of  a  despised  sect,  this  daugh 
ter  of  a  Methodist  preacher,  who  even  now  resided  in  the 
family  of  a  lay  preacher  of  that  denomination,  would,  he 
knew,  shock  him  greatly.  If  he  could  see  Esther  first,  if 
he  could  know  her  worth,  her  splendid  intellectual  endow 
ments,  her  accomplishments,  her  great  soul ;  if  he  could 
but  be. made  acquainted  with  her,  without  learning  in  ad 
vance  her  religious  sentiments  or  her  connections,  he  was 
sure  that  all  would  be  well.  But  there  was  the  trouble : 
how  could  this  be  done  ?  The  problem  troubled  him.  Then, 
too,  his  aunt.  Her  pride  of  birth,  her  aristocratic  tastes, 
her  earnest  wish  to  see  him  lead  the  life  of  a  Virginia  gen 
tleman — all  this  troubled  him.  He  himself  comprehended 
Esther.  He  knew  how  superior  she  was  to  all  others  with 
whom  he  compared  her,  and  he  despised  the  paltry  consid 
erations  that  others  esteemed  so  weighty.  He  had  no  pres 
ent  purpose  ;  he  could  form  none.  He  must  visit  his  home, 
survey  the  ground,  test  his  interest  in  Esther,  before  speak 
ing  to  her. 

That  soul,  which  he  knew  had  never  been  wakened  by 
the  voice  of  human  passion,  must  not  be  roused  until  the 
voice  of  true  and  immortal  love  broke  its  pure  slumber. 
The  star  of  hope  must  not  rise  in  the  heavens,  to  be  ob 
scured  by  mists,  but  must  mount  the  skies  when  they  were 
serene  and  cloudless. 

"  I  am  to  call  for  you,  Miss  Wordsworth,  to-morrow 
evening,  you  remember,"  said  De  Vane. 

"  Yes,"  said  Esther."  "  I  wish  to  hear  Mile.  Vesperini. 
I  have  long  desired  it.  She  is  said  to  be  peerless  in  song." 

"  I  share  your  enthusiasm,"  said  he.  "  You  know  my 
love  of  music  ;  but  your  singing  has  spoiled  me  for  that  of 
any  other  person." 


204  DE  VANE. 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  appreciation,  but  I  fear  that  I  am 
indebted  only  to  your  kindness.  You  are  too  generous  to 
be  critical." 

"  I  plume  myself  upon  my  taste,"  said  he  playfully  ; 
"and  nothing  but  something  like  perfection  can  satisfy 
me." 

They  had  reached  Mrs.  Springfield's  residence,  and  Do 
Vane,  declining  Esther's  invitation  to  go  in,  bade  her  good 
evening,  and  walked  away. 

He  found  Waring  seated  in  the  piazza  with  Mrs.  Bowen, 
awaiting  his  return. 

"  I  hope  you  had  a  pleasant  drive,  Professor,"  said  De 
Vane. 

"  It  could  not  be  otherwise,"  replied  Waring,  "  surround 
ed  as  I  was  ;  and  I  need  not  inquire  as  to  your  walk.  If 
it  had  not  been  agreeable,  you  would  not  have  lingered  so 
long  on  the  way." 

"  Delightful !"  said  De  Vane ;  "  but  have  I  been  long  ?" 

"  Mrs.  Bowen  has  been  waiting  tea  for  you — I  will  not 
undertake  to  say  how  long." 

"  Never  mind,  Mr.  De  Vane,"  said  the  good  lady,  per 
fectly  happy  in  the  presence  of  her  two  favorites.     "  Mr. 
Waring  has  just  come  in,  and  as  he  came  in  the  carriage 
of  course  he  got  home  first." 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

**A  BREATHLESS  awe,  like  the  swift  change, 

Unseen  but  felt,  in  youthful  slumbers  ; 

Wild,  sweet,  but  uncommunicably  strange,  «' 

Thou  breathest  now  'in  fast-ascending  numbers." 

SHELLEY. 

THE  cloudless  splendor  of  a  summer  evening  favored  the 
musical  entertainment  to  which  Mrs.  Habersham  had  in 
vited  her  friends.  There  was  a  delicious  coolness  in  the 
air,  peculiar  to  a  Southern  climate  after  the  fervors  of  the 
day  have  declined  ;  and  the  evening  breeze,  fanning  the 
shrubbery  with  which  the  town  abounded,  bestowed  a 
fragrance  which  nothing  but  natural  flowers  could  impart 
to  it.  What  a  tribute  to  the  senses,  when  sweet  odors 
mingle  with  sweet  sounds  !  The  South  is  the  home  of 
both ;  and  in  every  household  under  our  brilliant  skies, 
flowers  and  music  should  be  cultivated.  Glorious  land, 
lying  midway  between  the  frozen  north  and  the  burning 
tropics,  may  thy  people  ever  encourage  the  industry  which 
covers  thy  fields  with  fruitful  harvests,  and  the  arts  which 
ghed  refinement  upon  thy  happy  homes  ! 

The  parlor,  which  had  been  open  to  receive  the  guests, 
was  pretty  well  filled  when  De  Vane  and  Esther  arrived. 
They  had  driven  to  Mrs.  Habersham's,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Springfield  were  to  come  at  a  late  hour. 

Miss  Godolphin  received  them  with  animation,  and  ex 
pressed  her  gratification  at  their  presence. 

"  I  would  cross  the  Atlantic  myself,"  she  said,  "  to  hear 
noble  Vesperini." 

(205) 


206  DE  VANE. 

"  So  would  I,"  said  Esther,  "  most  gladly,  if  she  be  what 
she  is  represented  to  be  in  the  musical  world." 

"  No  description  can  do  her  justice,"  said  Miss  Godol- 
phin.  "  She  has  genius,  soul,  cultivation.  One  must  have 
all  to  be  perfect." 

Mr.  Clarendon  advanced,  and  said  :  "  Ah !  ladies,  we 
are  to  have  a  great  treat  to-night,  a  foreign  wonder,  as 
Comus  said,  when  entranced  by  music  from  some  unseen 
fair  one ;  but  I  shall  be  slow  to  believe  that  you  will  have 
to  lay  your  garlands  at  her  feet." 

"  Wait  till  you  hear  her,  Mr.  Clarendon,"  said  Miss  Go- 
dolphin.  "  She  is  really  a  wonder ;  and  you  will  be  ready 
to  exclaim  with  Comus,  I  am  quite  sure  : 

*  Can  any  mortal  mixture  of  earth's  mould 
Breathe  such  divine  enchanting  ravishment  ?'  " 

"  I  have  been  ready  to  make  that  exclamation,  De  Vane, 
about  Miss  Godolphin  and  Miss  Wordsworth  any  time 
these  six  months  past.  Yet  I'm  bound  to  believe  them 
mortal,  when  I  recover  myself  sufficiently  to  reason  about 
it." 

"Ah!  Mr.  Clarendon,  you  are  very  cruel,"  said  Miss 
Godolphin,  "  to  turn  your  satire  upon  us  in  this  way.  Is 
he  not,  Miss  Wordsworth  ?" 

"  Satire !"  said  he.  "  Upon  my  soul,  I  was  never  more 
sincere  in  all  my  life.  De  Vane,  have  you  not  heard  me 
often  say  something  very  like  this  ?" 

"  Something  very  like  it,"  said  De  Yane  ;  "  and  it  was 
only  last  evening  that  you  pronounced  me  fortunate  in 
being  under  the  guidance  of  an  angel." 

"  I  did  not  suppose,  Mr.  De  Yane,"  said  Esther,  "  that 
you  would  take  part  against  us." 

"  But,  in  all  seriousness,  ladies,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon, 
"  I  do  not  expect  to  hear  any  music  from  this  celebrated 


DE   VANE.  207 

Mile.  Yesperini  at  all  more  pleasing  to  me  than  I  have 
heard  from  each  of  you  within  a  month.  After  all,  music 
is  not  mere  artistic  skill,  that  may  heighten  its  effect; 
but  there  is  in  the  living  voice  a  power  to  move  the  soul, 
which  no  instrument,  however  cunningly  touched,  can  ever 
rival." 

"  Quite  true,"  said  Miss  Wordsworth ;  "  but  it  is  said 
that  Mile.  Vesperini's  voice  is  perfection." 

"  That  may  be,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  artistic  perfec 
tion,  but  a  voice  must  possess  a  living  sympathy  if  it 
wake  the  soul." 

"  That  is  the  peculiar  charm  of  this  lady's  voice,"  said 
Miss  Godolphin ;  "  she  is  what  may  be  called  eloquent  in 
song.  You  know  how  much  we  have  admired  that,  in 
Miss  Wordsworth's  singing.  And  I  predict  for  her  greater 
success  than  Mile.  Yesperini  has  attained,  if  she  will  be 
loyal  to  the  art." 

Esther  flushed,  and  De  Yane  said :  "  I  beg,  Miss  Godol 
phin,  to  lay  my  tribute  at  Miss  Wordsworth's  feet  too. 
When  her  grand  triumphs  come,  she  will  remember  us  as 
her  early  friends." 

"  So  you  are  coming  over  to  my  position,"  said  Mr. 
Clarendon.  "  To  make  my  triumph  complete,  I  shall  say 
that  I  long  ago  discovered  the  yet  undeveloped  powers  of 
both  these  ladies  ;  the  one  before  her  visit  to  Europe,  and 
the  other  some  twelve  months  since." 

The  room  was  nearly  filled,  and  among  those  who  had 
just  entered  was  Waring,  upon  whose  arm  a  lady  of  ex 
traordinary  beauty  was  leaning.  She  was  the  daughter 
of  Dr.  Dahlgreen.  Almost  majestic  in  the  fair  proportions 
of  her  youthful  but  well-developed  figure,  she  was  very 
graceful,  and  attracted  attention  by  her  sweet  manners. 
Her  eyes  were  very  fine,  full  of  expression,  in  which  soul 
and  intellect  were  blended.  She  had  just  returned  after 
an  absence  of  some  months,  having  been  on  a  visit  to  a 


208  DE  VANE. 

married  sister  residing  in  the  upper  part  of  the  Sta<e. 
Miss  Godolphin  went  forward  to  receive  her,  not  having 
met  her  since  her  return  from  Europe. 

Esther  informed  De  Vane  of  this,  and  explained  to  him 
that  she  was  well  known  to  his  friend,  Mr.  Waring. 

"  I  never  heard  him  speak  of  her,"  said  De  Vane.  "  It 
is  strange." 

"  Oh !  no,"  said  Esther,  "  she  has  been  absent  for  months, 
and  you  have  been  in  society  so  little,  that  you  have  not 
met  her." 

"Ah!  yes,  she  must  have  left  the  town  last  winter." 

"Yes,  in  November,  I  think,"  said  Esther.  "We  all 
admire  her  greatly,  and  I  am  glad  to  see  that  she  has  re 
turned.  Let  us  speak  with  her;"  and,  advancing  to  the 
group  about  Miss  Dahlgreen,  Esther  and  herself  greeted 
each  other  warmly.  De  Vane  was  presented  by  Waring, 
who  said : 

"  This,  Miss  Dahlgreen,  is  my  friend,  of  whom  you  have 
heard  me  speak." 

She  bowed  gracefully  to  De  Vane,  who  said : 

"  You  must  have  come  to  town  to-day,  Miss  Dahl 
green,  as  I  had  not  heard  of  your  arrival." 

"  Only  to-day,"  she  said,  "  and  I  sent  for  my  friend,  Mr. 
Waring,  to  escort  me,  when  I  found  that  my  father  would 
not  be  able  to  accompany  me." 

At  this  moment,  Mile.  Vesperini  entered  the  room,  and 
came  rapidly  to  Miss  Godolphin,  attended  by  her  uncle, 
whc  walked  behind  her. 

She  was  very  animated,  and  bowed  low,  speaking  with 
marked  gentleness  in  her  tones,  which,  even  in  conversa 
tion,  were  very  sweet.  She  was  just  the  medium  height, 
a  little  disposed  to  what  we  style  embonpoint,  but  well 
formed  and  perfectly  graceful.  The  sweetness  of  her  man 
ner  was  winning;  and  as  she  threw  a  glance  about  the 
room,  she  seemed  to  spread  light  through  it.  Her  hair 


DE  VANE.  209 

was  brushed  back  from  her  face,  and  gathered  in  heavy 
rolls  on  either  side.  A  wreath  of  green  leaves  encircled  her 
head,  and  rich  curls  fell  from  the  back  part  of  it  on  her 
neck.  Her  dress  was  of  white  silk,  small  flounces  of  lace 
covering  it  nearly  to  the  waist,  and  a  brilliant  necklace  of 
emeralds  encircled  her  neck. 

Several  gentlemen,  with  ladies  on  their  arms,  were  pre 
sented  to  her,  and  Mr.  Clarendon  took  charge  of  her,  and 
conducted  her  through  the  room. 

Very  soon  after  her  arrival,  the  doors  of  a  large  room 
opposite  the  parlor  were  thrown  open,  and  the  tables  were 
seen  covered  with  fruits,  flowers,  and  iced  cream.  And 
from  time  to  time  parties  entered  it  and  partook  of  the  re 
freshments. 

"  What  impression  does  she  make  on  you,  Mr.  De  Yane  ?" 
asked  Esther. 

"  She  is  very  bright,"  he  answered,  "  and  I  am  pleased. 
Has  she  real  warmth,  do  you  suppose  ?" 

"  I  should  think  so,"  said  Esther ;  "  but  it  is  impossible 
to  judge  her  so  soon.  She  has  musical  eyes.  Did  you  ob 
serve  their  color  ?" 

"No,"  said  he.     "Are  they  not  dark?" 

"  Oh  !  no ;  they  have  a  greenish  hue,  which  is  said  to  be 
observed  in  all  great  singers." 

"Indeed!"  said  De  Vane.     "I  must  observe  her  mor 
closely.     Your  theory  is  a  new  one  to  me.     I  do  not  dis 
cover  it  in  your  eyes."     And  he  looked  down  into  then 
glorious  depths.    "  Yours  are  the  purest  violet  I  ever  saw.' 

"  Are  they  ?"  said  Esther,  blushing.  "  Then  I  fear  that 
1  want  the  magic  color." 

"  You  want  nothing  else,  then,  to  make  you  peerless  in 
song.  Do  you  know  that  you  bring  tears  to  my  eyes  be 
fore  I  am  conscious  of  it  ?" 

"  Certainly  no  higher  tribute  than  tears  can  be  paid  to 
music,"  she  said. 


210  DE  VANE. 

Waring  came  up  with  Miss  Dahlgreen. 

"  We  have  just  been  presented  to  the  celebrated  canta- 
trice,"  said  Miss  Dahlgreen.  "  Will  you  not  speak  with 
her?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Esther,  "  we  intend  doing  so.  Do  you  find 
ner  agreeable  ?" 

"  Very  much  so,"  she  answered,  "  very  much  so.  Her 
face  is  a  very  sweet  one." 

"  Let  us  speak  with  her,"  said  De  Vane ;  and  advancing 
with  Esther  to  the  chair  where  she  was  seated,  Mr.  Claren 
don  presented  them. 

Mile.  Vesperini  rose  from  her  seat,  and  bowed  with 
marked  cordiality  to  them.  Esther's  beauty  impressed 
her,  and  she  could  scarcely  restrain  her  exclamations  of 
pleasure. 

"  And  do  you  reside  here  ?"  she  asked. 

"Yes,"  said  Esther. 

"  And  is  this  your  native  place  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Esther,  "  Georgia  is  my  native  State ;  but  I 
have  been  here  nearly  all  my  life." 

"  Ah ! "  said  Mile.  Vesperini.  "  You  are  so  English — 
I  should  have  pronounced  you  English  if  I  had  met  you  in 
any  part  of  the  world  but  here.  Here  one  meets  the 
several  races  represented,  and  that,  too,  in  perfection," 
she  said,  with  a  bright  smile. 

"Miss  Wordsworth,"  said  De  Vane,  "has  near  relatives 
in  England,  as  most  of  us  in  this  country  have." 

"  Ah  !  yes,"  she  said,  "  it  is  so.  I  find  them  everywhere. 
And  is  Miss  Wordsworth  related  to  the  poet  of  that 
name  ?" 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "quite  nearly,  I  think." 

"  I  had  not  learned  that  before,"  said  De  Vane. 

"You  must  visit  Europe,  Miss  Wordsworth,"  said  Mile. 
Vf p.perini.  "  It  will  delight  you." 


DE   VANE.  211 

"When  I  can  do  so,"  said  Esther,  "I  shall  be  very  hap 
py  to  make  the  visit." 

"  Go  to  Home,  Miss  Wordsworth — go  to  Rome.  There 
is  the  seat  of  the  arts,  as  it  was  of  empire  for  a  thousand 
years ! " 

She  spoke  with  great  animation. 

"  Paris,"  she  continued,  "  is  gay — appreciative,  too.  Vi 
enna  is  grand  but  cold ;  St.  Petersburgh,  magnificent  but 
half  barbarous ;  yet  London  is  great  but  stiff.  Florence — 
Naples — pictures  in  the  one,  palaces  and  the  bay  in  the 
other ;  but  Rome — Rome  is  imperial  still !  " 

"  Bravo  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Clarendon,  with  enthusiasm. 
"  Bravo  ! " 

"  You  think  with  me,  then  ?"  said  she,  turning  to  him. 

"  A  thousand  times  yes,"  he  answered. 

"  I  am  happy,"  she  said.  "  Go  to  Rome,  Miss  Words 
worth,  and  forget  the  degeneracy  of  every  thing  modern, 
except  the  arts.  Go  to  Rome,  and  let  music  fill  your  soul 
and  make  you  immortal." 

De  Vane's  face  was  bright,  his  enthusiasm  was  roused. 
Here  stood  a  woman  ablaze  with  the  love  of  her  art — the 
priestess  of  an  art  nothing  less  than  divine — and  urging 
another  woman,  whose  beauty  filled  he'r  soul  with  a 
strange  ardor,  to  visit  the  temple  where  that  art  found  its 
highest  interpretation. 

"  You  have  music  in  you,"  she  continued.  "  I  read  your 
soul.  You  can  interpret  music — you  can  serve  music  Go 
to  Rome — imperial,  sublime,  eternal  Rome  !" 

She  was  impassioned,  and  her  face  glowed  with  the 
enthusiasm'  for  her  art  which  flamed  up  within  her. 

Esther,  catching  the  fervor  of  the  rapt  priestess,  was 
resplendent,  like  the  Parsee  in  the  presence  of  the  sun,  and 
she  was  conscious  of  a  high  sympathy  with  the  extraor 
dinary  woman  who  stood  before  her. 

"  I  am  curious  to  know,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  how  you 


212  DE  VANE. 

made  the  discovery  that  my  young  friend  is  like  yourself — 
full  of  music." 

"  I  saw  it  in  her  organization — heard  it  in  her  voice — 
read  it  as  one  reads  the  mysteries  of  an  art  which  laymen 
never  comprehend." 

Miss  Godolphin  came  into  the  group.  "  Here,  too,  is 
one,"  said  Mile.  Vesperini,  "  whose  soul  loves  music.  If 
she  had  been  European,  she  would  have  been  an  artiste  ; 
but  in  this  new  country,  your  civilization  does  nothing 
for  the  arts  ;  you  give  them  no  rank,  no  rewards,  no  en 
couragement.  When  Miss  Godolphin  was  in  Paris,  I  read 
her  soul ;  but  she  would  not  listen  to  me.  She  had  been 
to  Rome — had  heard  the  great  artistes — and  was  then  pur 
suing  the  art  with  wonderful  enthusiasm ;  but  when  I 
spoke  to  her  of  entering  into  its  service,  she  shrank  from 
it.  Caste  was  roused  ;  her  nationality  arrested  her  ardor ; 
and  she  refused  to  enter  a  temple  where  the  glories  01 
heaven  fill  its  highest  dome." 

"  I  well  remember  your  friendly  interest  in  me,"  said 
Miss  Godolphin,  "  nor  can  I  ever  forget  it." 

"  Friendly  interest !  It  was  my  love  for  music.  I  would 
have  led  you  to  the  shrine,  where  you  should  have  minis 
tered  forever." 

Professor  Mies  and  his  wife  came  up  to  the  circle  which 
had  gathered  about  Mile.  Yesperini,  and  they  entered  into 
conversation  with  her.  They  spoke  of  the  great  musical 
celebrities  of  Europe,  with  whose  fortunes  they  were 
familiar. 

Malibran  was  mentioned.  "  She  is  angelic  !"  exclaimed 
Mile.  \  esperini.  "  She  has  just  reappeared  in  Paris,  in 
the  grand  opera,  Semiramide.  She  is  glorious !  Poor 
child !  she  came  to  your  country  to  find  a  sad  fate.  She 
should  never  have  married." 

"  But,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  she  did  not  marry  an 
American.  Malibran  is  a  French  banker  in  New- York." 


DE  VANE.  213 

"Ah  !  you  vindicate  your  country,  just  as  you  were  ac 
customed  to  do  in  Paris,"  she  said,  shaking  her  brilliant 
fan  playfully.  "Artistes  must  not  sell  themselves.  If  you 
could  have  heard  Malibran  as  I  heard  her  in  London,  when 
ishe  first  appeared,  in  the  part  of  Rosina  in  II  JBarbiere  de 
Seviglio,  you  would  have  pronounced  her  divine.  She 
tyas  just  eighteen.  Ah  !  artistes  should  never  sell  them 
selves.  Gold  may  buy  talent  of  any  kind,  but  genius — 
inspiration — never !" 

She  uttered  the  last  words  with  startling  energy. 

"  No,"  said  Miss  Godolphin ;  "  the  best  part  of  our 
nature  can  never  be  bought." 

There  was  a  deep  tenderness  in  her  tones  ;  and  the  lashes 
fell  over  her  large,  dark  eyes. 

"Do  you  return  to  Europe  presently?"  asked  Madam 
Niles. 

"Yes  ;  in  a  month.  I  go  first  to  Ireland.  To  me,  Ire 
land  is  every  thing  in  the  summer.  However  it  may  be 
with  others,  that  is  my  season.  My  home  is  just  on  a  lit 
tle  lake,  that  to  me  is  more  than  the  ocean." 

"  Your  country,"  said  Professor  Niles,  "  is  very  beauti 
ful.  Its  rural  aspect  was  to  me  enchanting,  especially 
where,  from  its  coves,  one  could  catch  glimpses  of  the 
sea." 

"  If  my  country  were  like  yours — free,"  she  said,  "  it 
would  be  glorious." 

"  You  like  Paris  ?"  asked  Madam  Niles. 

"Yes.  It  is  brilliant.  To  pass  the  gay  season  there  is 
every  thing.  You  meet  all  the  world  ;  and  nowhere  else 
is  the  opera  alive,  but  in  Paris.  But  I  would  not  make  it 
my  home  ;  rather  would  I  pass  from  Italy  to  Ireland,  and 
from  Ireland  to  Italy  again,  taking  Paris  en  route." 

"  We  heard  of  you  in  Florence,"  said  Madam  Niles, 
"  but  did  not  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you.  It  was 
four  years  since." 


214  DE  VANE. 

"Ah  !"  exclaimed  Mile.  Yesperini ;  "  I  was  there  studying 
pictures." 

"  So  we  were,"  said  Professor  Niles  ;  "  and  one  might 
pass  a  lifetime  there  in  that  pursuit." 

"Florence  is  very  pleasant,"  she  said,  "for  one  who 
wishes  to  rest ;  but  there  is  no  life  there.  It  is  to  me  but 
a  dreary  spot." 

Then  turning  to  Esther,  she  said  :  "  "  You  will  at  some 
time  visit  Europe  ?  Go  while  you  are  yet  young — before 
your  fervor  is  at  all  chilled — and  while  the  love  of  art  is 
a  passion  with  you." 

"  It  is  not  at  all  certain,"  said  Esther,  "  that  I  shall  go 
abroad ;  but  if  ever  I  feel  that  I  can  do  so,  I  shall  remem 
ber  your  counsel." 

"  It  is  possible,  Mile.  Yesperini,"  said  De  Yane,  "  that  I 
may  cross  the  Atlantic  some  time  next  year,  and  it  would 
be  very  agreeable  to  me  to  meet  you  in  Rome.  My  ven 
eration  for  the  Eternal  City  is  not  less  than  your  own." 

"Ah !  I  shall  be  very  happy  to  meet  you.  I  shall  expect 
you  next  year  ?" 

"  My  plans  of  travel  are  not  at  all  settled,"  he  said ; 
"but  I  have  such  a  tour  in  view  as  would  take  me  into 
Italy  some  time  next  year." 

"  Cross  the  Alps  in  October — not  before,  not  after — 
descend  into  Italy  in  October." 

At  this  moment,  the  doors  opening  from  the  parlor  into 
the  small  drawing-room  where  De  Yane  and  Waring  had 
been  received  upon  their  late  visit,  were  thrown  open. 
Its  exquisite  and  graceful  adornments  impressed  every 
one.  The  instruments  of  music,  the  pictures,  the  tasteful 
and  rare  furniture,  the  profusion  of  natural  flowers,  lent 
it  an  air  of  enchantment. 

"  Oh  !  how  charming  !"  exclaimed  Mile.  Yesperini. 
"This  is  Parisian." 

De  Yane  offered  her  his  arm,  and  conducted  her  into 


DE   VANE.  215 

the  room.  She  declined  to  be  seated,  but  stood  looking 
at  the  objects  of  art,  which  were  distributed  with  fine 
taste  and  met  the  view  everywhere. 

Mr.  Clarendon  advanced,  with  Miss  Dahlgreen  on  his 
arm,  and  invited  her  to  give  them  some  music. 

With  perfect  grace  she  bowed,  and  took  her  seat  at  the 
harp,  touching  the  chords  lightly.  She  changed  the  tone 
of  two  or  three  of  them,  and  then  asked  Miss  Dahlgreen  if 
she  would  prefer  any  particular  song. 

"  I  wish  rather,"  Miss  Dahlgreen  said,  "  to  leave  that  to 
your  taste." 

Esther  stood  near,  with  Waring  and  Miss  Godolphin, 
and  she  observed  with  pleasure  that  Mr.  Springfield  and 
her  aunt,  with  Mrs.  Habersham,  were  favorably  placed  to 
enjoy  the  music. 

Mile.  Yesperini,  with  a  low,  tender  touch  to  the  strings, 
sang  from  the  Italian,  Domini  0  me  Felici^  the  liquid 
tones  blending  with  those  of  the  instrument,  and  pro 
ducing  perfect  harmony.  Every  word  was  distinctly  ut 
tered,  and  the  sweetness  of  the  voice  was  indescribable. 
When  the  song  ceased,  so  perfect  was  the  stillness  in  the 
room,  that  the  rustling  of  the  dress  of  the  cantatrice,  as 
her  arm,  falling  from  the  strings,  rested  upon  it,  was  the 
first  thing  that  woke  the  audience  to  consciousness. 

She  did  not  attempt  to  rise,  but  smiling  to  Esther,  she 
desired  her  to  come  to  her. 

A  murmur  of  applause  went  round  the  room,  and  Miss 
Godolphin,  turning  to  Waring,  said:  "That  is  music." 

"Yes,"  said  he. 

"  Miss  Wordsworth,"  said  Mile.  Yesperini,  "  I  am  about 
to  sing  again.  You  heard  me  speak  of  Madame  Malibran : 
would  you  wish  to  hear  something  from  the  opera  in  which 
she  sang  when  I  first  heard  her  in  London  ?" 

"  I  should  be  delighted — thank  you,"  said  Esther. 

"  I  will  sing  it  for  you,"  said  Mile.  Yesperini.  "  I  am  sure 
that  it  will  please  you.  I  sometimes  sing  it  in  public." 


216  DE  VANE. 

Again  she  touched  the  strings,  and  this  time  with  more 
power,  and  she  sang.  The  full,  .glorious  volume  of  sound 
floated  out  in  the  air,  sometimes  rising  in  strength  and  fill 
ing  the  room,  and  then  sinking  with  a  gentle,  prolonged 
cadence,  as  if  melting  into  silence,  until  at  the  close  a  burst 
of  passionate  energy  died  away  into  a  tender,  almost  wail 
ing  sadness,  that  entered  into  the  soul,  waking  its  deepest 
sympathy. 

"  O  Mile.  Vesperini !"  exclaimed  Miss  Godolphin,  "  how 
you  have  interpreted  music  this  evening !  I  feel  as  if  I 
never  comprehended  its  power  before." 

She  smiled  and  bowed.  Quite  a  number  came  to  thank 
her ;  and  as  Esther  did  so,  her  eyes  dripping  with  tears, 
she  could  only  whisper  :  "  Thank  you  I" 

"  The  tribute  of  your  tears  to  the  music,  Miss  Words 
worth,  is  the  highest  that  can  be  paid." 

She  spoke  as  if  she  were  really  the  mere  interpreter  of 
the  art,  and  she  accepted  the  homage  everywhere  offered 
her  as  if  it  were  due  only  to  that.  She  was  but  the  priest 
ess  at  the  shrine,  standing  in  the  midst  of  the  worshipers. 

She  was  about  to  rise  from  her  seat,  when  Mr.  Clarendon 
came  to  ask  her  to  sing  something  in  our  own  language. 

She  yielded  at  once,  and  asked  him  if  he  would  name 
something.  He  appealed  to  Miss  Godolphin,  but  she  ad 
vised  that  it  should  be  left  to  Mile.  Yesperini's  own  pre 
ference. 

"  Then,"  said  she,  "  I  will  go  to  my  country.  I  will 
find  something  in  Irish  song  to  express  what  I  feel  for 
Ireland." 

Sweeping  the  chords  of  the  instrument  until  they  seemed 
to  breathe  with  sadness,  she  sang,  with  a  depth  of  pathos 
that  could  not  be  surpassed,  Moore's  lines  describing,  in 
touching  eloquence,  the  condition  of  his  ill-governed 
country — 

"  The  harp  that  once  through  Tara's  halls  ;" 


DE    VANE.  217 

and  as  she  poured  her  soul  into  the  song,  she  transported 
all  who  heard  her  with  her  own  passion.  The  eloquence 
of  the  utterance  was  irresistible.  The  manner  in  which 
she  gave  the  intenseness  of  her  sentiment  to  the  two  clos 
ing  lines  was  startling. 

"  Bravo  !  Bravo !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Clarendon,  approach 
ing  her  as  she  rose  from  her  seat,  while  a  storm  of  applause 
greeted  her  on  every  side. 

De  Yane  was  electrified.  His  eyes  blazed  with  enthusi 
asm,  and  he  exclaimed :  "  That  song  is  in  the  language  of 
sadness  ;  but  the  very  voice  of  lamentation  over  departed 
glory,  if  it  could  be  heard  throughout  Ireland,  would  rouse 
her  sons  to  deliver,  or  perish  with  her." 

Mile.  Vesperini  caught  the  words  as  she  was  passing, 
and  bowed  low  to  him.  Every  one  spoke  with  animation 
of  the  performance,  and  as  Mr.  Clarendon  took  Mile.  Yes- 
perini  to  the  refreshment-room,  he  expressed  his  own  high 
appreciation  of  her  music. 

"I  enjoy  it  myself,"  said  she.  "Music  is  to  me  every 
thing.  Oh  !  I  should  be  so  desolate  without  it." 

"  Miss  Wordsworth,"  said  De  Yane,  "  do  you  observe 
that  painting  ?" 

They  stood  in  front  of  the  large  picture  representing  the 
daughter  of  Herodias  bearing  the  head  of  the  Baptist  to 
her  mother. 

Esther  stood  in  perfect  silence  for  some  moments.  "  It 
is  very  wonderful,"  she  said.  "  It  resembles  a  picture  of 
my  mother,  which  I  have,  as  closely  as  if  one  were  copied 
from  the  other.  It  is  very,  very  wonderful." 

"  It  is  a  perfect  likeness  of  yourself,"  said  De  Yane ; 
"  perfect — features,  form,  expression,  every  thing." 

She  became  very  pale.  "  I  have  never  seen  this  before,'* 
she  said.  "I  must  know  its  history." 

"  Let  us  pass  on  now,"  said  De  Yane,  observing  her 
emotion ;  and  entering  the  refreshment-room,  he  handed  her 
10 


218  DE   VANE. 

an  ice.  Others  joined  them,  and  in  the  animated  conversa 
tion  that  followed,  the  impression  of  sadness  made  by  a  pic 
ture  so  vividly  recalling  her  mother  seemed  to  pass  off. 
Some  time  after,  Mile.  Vesperini  came  to  her,  and  said : 

"  I  am  going  to  ask  you  to  sing.  Of  course  you  will  not 
refuse  me." 

She  colored  to  the  temples.     She  was  really  distressed. 

"  Can  you  not  excuse  me  ?"  she  said.  "  Not  after  your 
singing,  surely  not  after  that.  Will  you  not  excuse  me  ?" 

"  I  really  wish  to  hear  you,"  said  Mile.  Yesperini.  "  Do 
oblige  me." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Esther,  "  every  one  must  know  that 
in  singing  this  evening  I  yield  my  wishes  to  yours."  And 
putting  her  arm  in  that  of  Mile.  Vesperini,  with  a  graceful 
expression  in  her  manner,  of  deference  to  so  celebrated  an 
artist,  she  accompanied  her  to  the  drawing-room.  She 
took  her  seat  at  the  harp,  and  her  attitude  was  that  of  per 
fect  grace.  Never  had  her  beauty  been  more  resplendent. 
There  was  nothing  of  embarrassment  in  her  manner,  but 
something  of  consciousness  was  seen  in  her  expression — a 
slight  indication  of  her  sense  of  the  very  severe  task  which 
she  was  about  to  undertake. 

Her  dress  was  becoming  to  her ;  it  was  snowy  white,  and 
fell  in  rich  folds  about  her  person.  She  wore  a  necklace 
of  pearls,  atid  in  her  hair  the  crimson  passion-flower  was 
tAvisted  with  violets. 

After  touching  lightly  the  strings  of  the  instrument, 
which  seemed  to  breathe  under  her  snowy  fingers,  she 
sang: 

"  I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth." 

Her  voice,  gaining  strength  and  increasing  in  power  as 
she  advanced,  rose  upon  the  air..  It  was  as  full  of  sublime 
and  thrilling  sympathy  with  the  world's  great  hope  of  im 
mortality,  as  if  an  angel,  unseen  by  others,  stood  before  her 


DE   VANE.  219 

in  revealing  light,  and  warmed  her  soul  with  the  love  that 
fills  the  hearts  of  seraphs ;  and  as  the  dying  cadences  were 
lost  in  silence,  every  one  felt  that  something  celestial  lin 
gered  near  them. 

Mile.  Vesperini's  eyes  were  swimming  in  tears.  In  her 
ardor,  she  rushed  to  Esther's  chair,  threw  an  arm  about 
her,  and  said  :  "  Oh  !  that  you  were  with  me  in  Rome." 

"  Ah !  Mile.  Vesperini,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  brushing 
his  eyes,  "  we  could  not  give  her  up." 

De  Vane's  face  was  radiant.  Turning  to  Waring,  he 
said: 

"  What  a  triumph  !" 

"  Yes,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  she  is  glorious.  Her 
song,  too,  is  characteristic  of  herself.  She  could  have 
chosen  nothing  so  appropriate." 

There  were  some  present  who  had  never  heard  Esther 
before,  and  the  rapturous  applause  that  greeted  her,  proved 
how  well  she  was  appreciated.  She  rose  from  her  seat, 
conducted  by  Mile.  Yesperini,  and  approached  the  group 
where  Waring  and  De  Yane  were  standing. 

De  Yane  greeted  her  warmly, 'and  said:  "I  will  not  at 
tempt  to  thank  you — I  can  not." 

"  Nothing  can  be  finer  than  that  in  the  way  of  uttering 
thanks,"  said  Mile.  Yesperini,  smiling. 

Waring  gave  Esther  his  hand  silently.  Miss  Godolphin 
was  exultant ;  she  said  : 

"  I  am  not  taken  by  surprise.  I  knew  you  before  ;  but 
I  am  delighted  that  Mile.  Yesperini  has  heard  you." 

More  music  was  called  for.  The  love  for  it  seemed  to 
grow  by  that  it  fed  on.  Miss  Dahlgreen  urged  Miss  Go- 
dolphin  to  sing. 

"Oh!  no,"  she  said.  "Mile.  Yesperini  has  heard  me. 
I  am  at  home  here,  and  can  be  heard  at  any  time.  Will 
you  not  favor  us,  Miss  Dahlgreen  ?" 

"  Not  this  evening,  thank  you,"  she  replied.     "  I  only 


220  DE  VANE. 

sing  to  cheer  my  friends  at  home ;  and  for  some  time  past 
have  bestowed  too  little  attention  on  music." 

"You  must  not  appeal  to  me,"  said  Waring,  as  she 
looked  toward  him.  "  I  heard  you  last  fall,  and  I  was  so 
charmed,  that  I  threatened,  you  remember,  to  visit  you 
every  week,  to  hear  you." 

"  Yes,  you  are  very  good,  Mr.  Waring,  I  know ;  but  I 
really  sing  very  little." 

Miss  Godolphin  took  her  seat  at  the  piano,  and  Mile. 
Vesperini  and  Esther  undertook  to  accompany  her  in 
singing. 

It  was  done  with  great  effect,  each  voice  at  times  sus 
taining  a  single  part,  and  again  blending  in  strong  and 
deep  harmony. 

Miss  Godolphin's  voice  was  one  of  great  power,  and  in 
cultivation  almost  rivaled  that  of  Mile.  Yesperini.  Rare 
ly,  in  any  circles,  had  such  music  been  heard ;  and  the  lit 
tle  capital  could  boast  at  once  of  its  beauty,  its  genius,  its 
eloquence,  its  arts,  and  its  statesmanship. 

The  flying  hours  were  swiftly  passing.  Looking  out 
from  the  gallery  which  ran  on  the  side  of  the  drawing- 
room,  and  into  which  its  windows  opened,  the  stars  were 
seen  in  their  bright  courses,  and  the  moon  flooded  the  gar 
den  with  its  radiance. 

Mile.  Yesperini  was  prevailed  on  to  sing  once  more — to 
sing  one  of  those  favorite  melodies,  which  the  genius  of 
her  countryman,  Moore,  had  produced. 

She  sat  at  the  harp.  Its  tones  were  sadder  than  ever : 
they  seemed  to  steal  from  a  broken  heart ;  and  the  voice 
of  the  cantatrice,  in  tenderest  sympathy  with  them,  floated 
upon  the  air. 

She  sang  those  tender  lines,  written  in  the  highest  con 
ception  of  love  desolate,  and  mourning  the  young  heroic 
dead — 

"  She  is  far  from  the  land  where  her  young  hero  sleeps  ;" 


DE  VANE.  221 

and  the  gush  of  emotion  which  she  could  not  restrain, 
was  as  thrilling  as  if  she  herself  were  the  young  maiden 
whose  heart  had  been  crushed  by  the  blow  which  destroyed 
her  lover,  lamenting  at  once  his  fate  and  her  own. 

De  Vane  was  standing  near  Miss  Godolphin,  and  he  had 
observed  that  from  the  moment  the  artist's  fingers  had 
struck  from  the  chords  of  the  harp  the  air  which  had  just 
died  in  their  trembling  tones,  she  grew  pale,  as  the  song 
was  uttered  in  such  passionate  eloquence.  She  seemed 
scarcely  conscious  ;  and  when  it  ceased,  she  reeled  and 
was  falling,  when  he  caught  her  and  placed  her  in  a  chair. 
Scarcely  any  one  had  observed  her  emotion,  for  their  eyes 
were  fixed  on  Mile.  Vesperini,  and  De  Vane,  with  perfect 
self-possession  and  delicacy,  shielded  her  from  those  about 
him.  Her  head  rested  for  a  moment  on  his  arm,  pale  as 
if  death  had  robbed  those  classical  features  forever  of  their 
glowing  beauty.  Then,  with  a  deep  sigh,  she  woke  to 
consciousness,  and  the  warm  blood,  returning,  suffused  her 
very  brow. 

She  looked  up  to  De  Vane's  face,  and  murmured :  "  Thank 
you." 

"  Let  me  bring  you  an  ice,"  he  said. 

"  No,"  she  replied,  "  I  will  go  with  you ;  and  passing 
her  arm  through  that  of  De  Vane,  they  went  into  the  re 
freshment-room,  almost  unobserved.  Not  wholly  so,  for 
Waring  had  witnessed  the  scene ;  but  with  full  sympathy 
with  De  Vane,  he  had  placed  himself  so  as  to  protect  them 
from  the  view  of  others. 

After  a  little  time,  De  Vane  returned  to  the  drawing- 
room.,  and  said  to  Esther  that  Miss  Godolphin  wished  her 
to  excuse  her  absence  to  Mile.  Vesperini,  and  say  to  her 
that  she  would  join  her  very  soon. 

Esther  approached  Mile.  Vesperini,  and  delivered  the 
message.  Miss  Dahlgreen  came  forward,  and  expressed 


222  DE  VANE. 

her  thanks  to  Mile.  Vesperini  for  the  pleasure  which  she 
had  afforded  them  all. 

"  Ah  !"  she  replied,  "  you  do  not  know  how  I  have  en 
joyed  the  evening.  This  place  is  charming.  I  know 
nothing  like  it  in  this  country.  I  shall  carry  away  with 
me  such  impressions,  and  cherish  such  recollections  !  It  is 
charming." 

"  We  are  much  pleased  to  hear  you  say  so,"  said  Miss 
Dahlgreen.  "  One  who  has  seen  so  much  that  is  attract 
ive  in  the  world,  in  pronouncing  so  warmly  her  approval 
of  us,  must  know  how  we  prize  the  tribute." 

Miss  Godolphin  entered  the  room,  and  engaged  in  con 
versation  with  them. 

"A  thousand  thanks  to  you,  Miss  Godolphin,"  said 
Mile.  Yesperini,  "  for  this  charming  evening.  I  wish  that 
I  could  linger  with  you,  but  the  wheels  will  to-morrow 
bear  me  away." 

"  Not  to-morrow,"  said  Mrs.  Habersham.  "  We  did 
hope  to  have  you  with  us  longer." 

"  To-morrow  evening,  madame,  I  shall  be  compelled  to 
fly.  Ireland  calls  me — I  must  see  my  home." 

Then  followed  the  le%ve-taking.  The  guests  departed ; 
but  long  lingered  in  their  memory  the  sounds  that  had 
floated  over  their  souls,  and  the  words  of  song  which  had 
awakened  within  them  a  new  and  strong  sympathy  with 
the  divine  art. 

"  Let  us  walk,  Miss  Wordsworth,"  said  De  Vane ;  "  the 
night  is  fine." 

"  I  fear,  Esther,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield,  "  that  you  will 
take  cold.  It  may  be  better  that  Mr.  De  Vane  and  your 
self  should  join  us  in  the  carriage." 

Esther  decided  to  walk,  and  De  Vane  wrapping  her  in 
her  ample  shawl,  they  enjoyed  the  fresh  air  of  the  balmy 
night. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

.  .  .  .  "  PEACB  hath  her  victories 
No  less  renowned  than  war.  New  foes  arise, 
Threatening  to  bind  our  souls  with  secular  chains." 

JOHN  MILTON. 

A  VERY  large  number  of  persons  called  the  next  day, 
and  left  their  cards  for  Mile.  Vesperini.  She  was  out 
driving,  attracted  by  the  verdure,  which  gave  an  aspect  of 
rural  beauty  to  the  town  and  its  environs.  Every  one 
was  disposed  to  acknowledge  the  claim  of  the  celebrated 
cantatrice  to  their  consideration ;  a  claim  which  her  genius, 
her  purity  of  character,  and  her  fine  manners,  made  it  any 
thing  but  a  task  to  meet  by  such  attentions  as  her  brief 
stay  afforded  them  the  opportunity  to  tender.  The  town, 
distinguished  for  its  refinement,  was  attractive  to  stran 
gers,  and  European  travelers  embraced  it  in  their  tour, 
and  spoke  of  it  everywhere  in  terms  which  were  not  more 
glowing  than  they  were  just.  The  College  shed  about  it 
an  intellectual  influence  which  was  very  marked,  while 
the  highest  courts  in  the  State  being  held  there,  and  the 
annual  assembling  of  the  Legislature,  made  it  a  place  of 
far  greater  interest  and  importance  than  its  numerical 
population  or  its  commercial  activity  would  have  con 
ferred  on  it,  if  it  had  been  left  dependent  on  these  alone. 
Long  may  its  College  prosper  !  Long  may  it  be  the  seat 
of  a  government  distinguished  for  intelligence,  statesman 
ship,  and  dignity ! 

De  Vane's  visits  to  Mr.  Springfield's  became  more  fre- 
(223) 


224  DE  VANE. 

quent,  and  he  could  no  longer  conceal  from  himself  his 
growing  interest  in  Esther.  They  were  much  together. 
Books,  music,  art — all  interested  them.  Not  a  word  of 
love  was  spoken,  not  a  hint  of  the  slightest  change  in 
their  relations.  They  walked  side  by  side,  and  knew  and 
trusted  each  other  more  fully  every  day.  The  rich,  vigor 
ous  mind  of  De  Vane  stimulated  Esther  in  her  studies, 
and  she  habitually  consulted  him  in  reference  to  her  course 
of  reading.  By  a  reflex  influence,  too,  she  guided  his 
tastes,  and  brought  to  his  view  such  works  as  she  felt 
satisfied  would  conduct  him  to  that  central  stand-point  in 
all  learning  which  would  enable  him  to  see  knowledge 
in  its  highest  relations — relations  which,  seeming  to  be 
bounded  by  the  horizon  of  the  visible  world,  really 
stretched  out  inimitably  and  embraced  the  universe.  She 
was  far  too  wise  to  obtrude  her  views  upon  him,  and  even 
when  he  sought  a  conversation  with  her  upon  the  great 
questions  of  morals,  she  suggested,  rather  than  argued. 
His  pride  of  character  she  well  knew.  She  had  said  to  him 
that  he  was  very  proud,  and  she  scrupulously  forbore  to 
put  him  in  the  attitude  of  defending  opinions  which  he 
sometimes  expressed,  by  combating  them — opinions  very 
odious  to  her,  too.  But  she  would  content  herself  with 
calling  his  attention  to  certain  other  views  which  ought 
fairly  to  be  examined  in  connection  with  them.  She  was 
very  wise,  and  her  influence  over  him  was  far  greater  than 
lie  ever  supposed  it  to  be.  As  an  angel,  invisible  to  our 
mortal  eyes,  may  walk  by  our  side  and  guide  our  steps,  so 
she,  quite  unconsciously  to  him,  walked  with  him,  and 
often  influenced  him  where  he  might  have  erred.  The  no 
bleness  of  his  nature  was  such  that  he  loved  the  true,  the 
good;  though,  as  he  had  ever  remarked  of  himself,  he 
loved  the  beautiful  intensely,  and  his  tastes  being  offend 
ed  would  sometimes  make  him  turn  away  from  what  was 
both  good  and  true.  There  was  a  grandeur  in  his  charac- 


DE   VANE.  225 

ter  which  elevated  him  very  far  above  commonplace  men, 
and  his  integrity  was  thorough.  What  his  future  was  to 
be  could  not  be  decided :  he  was  but  upon  the  threshold  of 
life.  Who  can  read  the  horoscope  of  a  young  man  of  in 
tellect,  ardor,  and  ambition  ? 

The  political  contest  through  which  the  country  was 
passing  was  deepening  in  interest,  and  it  roused  the  ener 
gies  of  the  State.  Mr.  Clarendon  felt  the  deepest  interest 
in  the  election  of  General  Jackson,  and  he  exerted  all  the 
power  of  his  magnificent  mind  to  bring  it  about.  Mr. 
Adams  was  conducting  the  administration  upon  principles 
which  he  could  not  approve,  and  Mr.  Clay  was  developing 
his  system  for  the  protection  of  American  industry  with 
great  boldness.  Much  as  Mr.  Clarendon  admired  the  per 
sonal  qualities  of  those  distinguished  statesmen — the  one 
a  scholar,  the  other  almost  peerless  as  an  orator — he  could 
not  give  his  sanction  to  a  system  false  in  itself  as  a  meas 
ure  of  national  policy,  and  as  hurtful  to  the  South  as  it 
was  unfair  to  every  other  interest  in  the  country  but  the 
manufactures  which  it  sought  to  protect,  while  it  was  a 
flagrant  violation  of  the  Constitution. 

General  Jackson,  too,  was  heroic  in  his  character,  re 
markable  for  self-reliance,  and  eminently  fitted  to  lead  the 
Avay  to  a  complete  popular  victory.  He  was  of  the  people  ; 
they  loved  him,  believed  in  him,  and  would  follow  him 
without  hesitation,  either  in  the  red  path  of  battle,  or  in 
the  political  contest,  hardly  less  fierce,  in  which  he  was 
now  engaged.  His  previous  defeat  was  not  the  result  of 
the  want  of  popular  confidence ;  but  several  eminent  men 
being  candidates  for  the  Presidency,  the  vote  of  the  elect 
oral  colleges  was  so  divided  that  no  one  of  the  aspirants  ob 
tained  a  majority.  General  Jackson  led  the  way  in  the 
splendid  course  which  opened  to  the  coveted  place ;  but, 
by  a  provision  of  the  Constitution,  the  election  devolved 
upon  the  House  of  Representatives  in  the  event  of  a  failure 
10* 


226  DE  VANE. 

of  the  electoral  colleges  to  give  to  some  one  person  a  ma 
jority  of  the  whole  vote.  General  Jackson,  of  Tennessee, 
John  Quincy  Adams,  of  Massachusetts,  and  William  H. 
Crawford,  of  Georgia,  were  the  three  who  stood  highest 
in  the  list  of  candidates  by  the  popular  vote.  Mr.  Clay, 
of  Kentucky,  fell  short  of  the  requisite  number,  and  could 
not  go  before  the  House  of  Representatives ;  but,  being 
the  leading  member  of  that  body,  his  influence  over  it  was 
controlling.  It  is  well  known  that,  if  Mr.  Crawford's 
health  had  not  suddenly  failed,  he  would  have  been  the 
choice  of  the  House  ;  but  a  shadow  passed  over  his  grand 
intellect,  and  unfitted  him  for  the  labors  of  that  eminent 
position.  As  an  eagle,  rising  upon  strong  wing  from  his 
mountain  eyrie  toward  some  loftier  and  sublimer  peak, 
from  which  he  might  with  undazzled  eye  look  out  upon 
the  boundless  plain,  sinks  suddenly  with  drooping  wing, 
and  seeks  the  humbler  resting-place  from  which  he  had 
soared,  so  this  really  great  man  sank  in  the  very  moment 
of  anticipated  triumph,  when  he  had  almost  reached  the 
highest  flight  of  his  ambition ;  and  returning  to  the  State 
which  still  loved  and  honored  him,  passed  the  remainder 
of  his  life  in  the  discharge  of  humbler  duties.  Mr.  Adams 
was  the  choice  of  the  House — a  result  due  to  Mr.  Clay's 
influence. 

Now,  the  recurrence  of  another  election  brought  with  it 
still  intense  strife.  The  friends  of  Mr.  Adams  and  of  Mr. 
Clay  employed  all  their  means  to  secure  the  reelection  of 
the  President,  that  he  might,  in  accordance  with  the  usage, 
then  unbroken,  of  a  service  of  eight  years,  except  in  the 
single  instance  of  his  own  father,  fill  the  measure  of  his 
ambition  and  his  fame ;  while  the  supporters  of  General 
Jackson,  roused  and  fired,  put  out  all  their  energies  in  his 
behalf.  By  midsummer  the  contest  had  become  a  very 
animated  one.  Mr.  Clarendon  entered  into  it  with  ardor ; 
he  insisted  that  the  contest  involved  principles  of  the 


DE    VANE.  227 

largest  interest  and  importance ;  that  it  was  a  struggle  not 
for  men,  but  for  the  ascendency  of  the  friends  of  the  Con 
stitution  over  its  enemies ;  that  the  structure  of  the  Go 
vernment  was  such  as  to  make  it  essential  to  adhere  to  the 
loctrines  advanced  by  the  friends  of  the  rights  of  the 
States,  and  not  to  surrender  it  to  the  control  of  those 
statesmen  who  sought  to  convert  it  into  a  grand  imperial 
consolidated  system,  which  would  merge  the  rights  of  the 
States  in  the  power  and  glory  of  the  empire. 

Into  these  views  De  Vane  fully  entered.  He  wrote  and 
spoke  for  them  with  power,  and  attracted  attention  by 
the  vigor  and  earnestness  with  which  he  advocated  truths 
that  he  believed  to  be  essential  to  the  prosperity  and  glory 
of  the  country.  There  was  an  elevation  and  dignity  about 
his  manner,  his  tone,  his  style  of  thought,  that  separated 
him  widely  from  commonplace  politicians;  and  he  was 
already,  in  character,  in  breadth  of  view,  and  in  his  whole 
bearing,  entitled  to  the  name  of  statesman. 

He  was  about  to  visit  Virginia.  His  father  had  ex 
pressed  a  decided  wish  that  he  should  do  so.  Still  he  lin 
gered — he  scarcely  knew  why  ;  but  he  found  it  not  at  all 
easy  to  complete  his  arrangements  for  his  journey.  He 
was  much  at  Mr.  Springfield's ;  and  he  had  explained  to 
Mrs.  Springfield  and  to  Esther  his  plans.  He  was  to  visit 
his  home,  pass  the  summer,  or  what  was  left  of  it,  in  the 
mountains,  and  return  in  October  to  pursue  his  studies. 
Waring,  too,  had  been  consulted.  He  approved  his  views, 
and  urged  him  to  adhere  to  his  resolution  as  to  his  future 
residence.  It  was  Waring's  plan  for  the  summer  vacation, 
to  remain  at  home,  and  fit'  himself,  by  diligent  study,  to 
enter  upon  his  duties  at  the  Opening  of  the  ensuing  session 
of  the  College ;  and  he  was  already  quite  advanced  in  his 
preparation  for  a  course  of  lectures,  upon  the  subjects  em 
braced  in  his  department. 

Esther  had  relaxed  somewhat  her  course  of  training  for 


228  DE  VANE. 

the  little  girls,  thinking  that,  in  the  heat  of  the  summer 
months,  it  might  be  better  for  them  to  be  employed  with 
the  needle,  and  with  drawing  and  painting,  than  to  be 
confined  to  books.  The  arrangement,  too,  afforded  her 
the  relaxation  which  she  wished ;  and  as  Mrs.  Green  was 
very  competent  to  instruct  her  little  charge  in  needle 
work,  one  of  the  more  advanced  pupils  was  to  undertake 
the  task  of  looking  after  their  progress  in  the  arts,  as  Es 
ther  playfully  styled  them.  She  made  them  a  daily  morn 
ing  call,  joined  in  their  devotions,  and  looked  into  their 
little  wants.  The  garden  which  supplied  the  table  with 
vegetables  was  well  looked  after  by  "Uncle  Jacob,"  as 
they  all  called  the  old  servant.  He  prided  himself  upon 
having  the  earliest,  the  best,  and  the  latest  fruits  and 
vegetables  in  the  town. 

One  evening,  when  the  sun  was  just  sinking  behind  the 
western  hills,  De  Vane  sat  at  the  melodeon  in  Waring's 
room,  touching  its  keys  with  an  air  of  abstraction.  War 
ing  had  walked  out.  He  was  alone,  and  the  thought  of 
his  journey,  now  soon  to  be  undertaken,  depressed  him. 
What  changes  had  come  over  him,  since  he  last  saw  his 
home,  when  very  young,  full  of  ardor,  and  impressed  with 
the  stateliness  of  the  aristocratic  life  which  had  surrounded 
him  !  Now  how  little  there  was  in  all  that  to  attract  him  ! 
He  did  not  undervalue  rank,  nor  wealth,  nor  power ;  but 
he  had  learned  to  estimate  them  at  what  they  were  worth. 
He  had  learned  to  distinguish  the  real  from  the  ideal ;  to 
prize  truth,  and  goodness,  and  refinement,  wherever  he 
found  them.  His  tastes  were  purer,  simpler  than  before ; 
and,  while  his  ambition  was  none  the  less,  it  had  addressed 
itself  to  the  attainment  of  grander  objects,  by  nobler 
means.  He  saw  now,  that  the  aim  of  aristocratic  appoint 
ments,  which  made  the  social  distinctions  of  life  so  broad, 
was  to  perpetuate  high  qualities,  by  preserving  one  class 
from  deterioration,  providing  for  it  the  means  of  culture, 


DE   VANE.  229 

which  should  insure  a  proper  training,  and  make  the  mind, 
the  heart,  the  tastes,  the  manners,  what  they  should  be. 
But  he  saw  how  all  this  had  failed ;  how  the  aristocratic 
class  was  becoming  enfeebled ;  and  how  the  humbler  class 
was  advancing  in  intellectual  power  and  moral  excellence. 
He  saw  how  much  there  was  of.  beauty,  of  refinement  of 
mind,  of  goodness,  in  those  whom  the  aristocratic  professed 
to  despise.  The  young  patrician's  brow  darkened  as  these 
thoughts  came  over  him.  Was  Waring  his  friend  ?  One 
of  the  noblest  men  the  world  ever  saw ;  full  of  intellect, 
of  strength,  of  generous  sympathy,  of  manly  virtue,  of  re 
finement,  of  sensibility,  of  a  heroic  love  of  truth — was 
such  a  man  to  be  despised  because  he  lacked  wealth ;  be 
cause  he  had  taught,  to  enable  his  sister  to  enjoy  the  little 
estate  left  to  them,  not  large  enough  for  both,  but  suffi 
cient  for  her ;  because  he  belonged  to  a  religious  sect  de 
spised  by  many ;  and  because  he  stepped  forward  into  the 
work  of  the  ministry  among  this  people,  under  the  prompt 
ings  of  a  great  heart,  and  an  imperious  sense  of  duty — was 
such  a  man  to  be  looked  down  upon  as  a  plebeian  ? 

Was  Mr.  Springfield  to  be  despised — a  man  of  the 
highest  order,  whose  mind,  heart,  education,  tastes,  man 
ners,  elevated  him  above  tens  of  thousands  of  those  who 
talked  of  race,  and  family,  and  caste  ? 

Esther,  a  peerless  woman,  glorious  in  person,  in  intellect, 
in  soul ;  a  ministering  angel  on  earth,  turning  away  from 
the  frivolous  and  little  objects  which  so  many  of  her  age 
prized;  bestowing  her  abounding  means  in  the  rearing, 
and  support,  and  culture  of  the  helpless ;  full  of  all  gener 
ous  qualities ;  accomplished  to  a  degree  which  threw  the 
attainments  of  the  tribe  of  elegant  high-born  triflers  into 
the  shade ;  with  a  soul  full  of  truth — was  she  to  be  looked 
down  upon  because  she  was  the  daughter  of  a  Methodist 
preacher,  as  he  had  heard  him  styled  ?  Because  she  was 
herself  a  Methodist,  was  she  to  be  despised  ?  or  if  not 


230  DE   VANE. 

despised,  treated  with  a  condescending  patronage  more 
insulting  still  ? 

The  young  patrician's  lips  were  very  firmly  compressed, 
his  eyes  grew  larger,  and  in  their  dark  depths  the  blaze  of 
irrepressible  indignation  flamed. 

He  struck  the  keys  of  .the  instrument,  and  there  rolled 
from  it  a  lofty  strain,  which  seemed  to  seek  the  heavens, 
grand,  solemn,  awe-inspiring ;  then  it  swelled  into  an  an 
them,  which  filled  the  room  with  its  volume. 

Waring  had  returned,  and  was  standing  in  the  door  of 
the  room,  his  Arms  crossed  upon  his  breast.  He  would 
not  disturb  De  Vane.  He  stood  and  observed  him.  He 
saw  that  he  was  roused.  And  as  the  music  from  the  'fine 
instrument  rolled  away,  his  face  expressed  the  admiration 
and  intent  with  which  he  regarded  the  young  patrician. 

The  music  ceased.  De  Vane  closed  the  instrument,  and 
rose  from  his  seat.  His  face  was  calmer,  but  a  high  sen 
timent  was  expressed  in  his  features. 

Waring  had  not  moved,  and  De  Yane,  turning  toward 
the  door,  for  the  first  time  became  aware  of  his  presence. 

"  O  Waring  !  you  have  returned.  Where  on  earth 
have  you  been  wandering  ?" 

"  Not  quite  beyond  this  dusty  world,  but  still  in  a  pleas 
ant  part  of  it.  I  have  been  in  the  public  garden." 

"  Indeed  !     And  did  you  meet  any  agreeable  people  ?" 

"  Several,"  said  Waring. 

"  Now,  you  intend,"  said  De  Yane,  "  that  I  shall  ask 
after  them  particularly.  Why  not  be  a  generous  fellow 
at  once  ?  You  need  not  stand  upon  your  dignity.  It's 
vacation  now." 

Waring  smiled,  and  said  :  "  The  garden  was  unusually 
thronged,  and  I  met  a  number  of  persons — some  of  them 
very  agreeable." 

"  Was  Miss  Godolphin  there  ?" 


DE   VANE.  231 

"  She  was,"  said  Waring,  "  and  asked  after  you  particu 
larly." 

"  I  hope  you  gave  a  good  account  of  me." 

"Yes,"  said  Waring,  "I  told  her  that  you  were  still 
studying  faithfully — law  in  the  morning,  and  other  mat 
ters  in  the  evening,  perhaps  not  so  profitable  ;  but  that  I 
thought  you  were  becoming  a  little  more  humanized,  for 
you  were  somewhat  more  inclined  than  formerly  to  visit 
the  ladies.  At  which  report  of  you  she  seemed  quite 
pleased." 

"  I'm  very  much  obliged  to  you  both,"  said  De  Yane. 

"  Yes,  and  perhaps  you  will  be  still  more  pleased  to 
learn  that  Miss  Wordsworth  was  with  her." 

"  Indeed  !"  said  De  Yane,  looking  slightly  conscious. 

"  Oh  !  yes,"  said  Waring,  "  and  I  am  instructed  to  in 
form  you  that  Miss  Godolphin  takes  Miss  Wordsworth 
with  her  to  tea,  and  that  you  are  expected  to  join  them 
without  any  unnecessary  delay." 

"  You  are  a  gracious  messenger,"  said  De  Yane  ;  "  and 
may  I  inquire  if  you  are  to  honor  the  ladies  with  your 
presence  ?" 

"  I  am  to  have  the  honor  of  accompanying  you,"  he 
replied  ;  "  so  let  us  walk." 

As  they  descended  the  stairs,  they  saw  Mrs.  Bowen, 
and  explained  to  her  that  they  would  not  remain  for  tea, 
and  she  said : 

"  Well,  I'm  glad  to  see  you  go  out ;  not  that  I  don't 
like  to  have  you  here,  but  I  know  that  you  will  enjoy 
yourselves  much  better." 

"Thank  you,  Mrs.  Bowen,"  said  De  Yane.  "I  enjoy 
your  house  very  much,  but  I  must  take  Professor  Waring 
out  sometimes,  to  see  the  ladies." 

"  Ah !  yes,  I  understand  it,"  she  said  ;  "  it's  all  right." 

They  bade  her  good  evening,  and  walked  away.  A  few 
minutes'  walk  brought  them  to  Mrs.  Habersham's ;  and 


232  DE  VANE. 

they  were  shown  into  a  small  drawing-room,  where  they 
found  the  ladies. 

"  You  observe,  ladies,"  said  Waring,  "  that  I  have  car 
ried  out  my  instructions." 

"Faithfully,"  said  Miss  Godolpbin,  "  for  which  we  are 
obliged.  Not  finding  you  in  the  walk  which  you  some 
times  take,  Mr.  De  Vane,"  she  continued,  "  we  asked  Mr. 
Waring  to  be  so  good  as  to  invite  you  to  join  this  even 
ing  in  a  cup  of  tea,  quietly,  and  we  are  very  glad  to  see 
you." 

"  I  am  most  happy  to  come,"  said  De  Vane,  bowing. 
"  My  friend  here  deserted  me  this  evening  in  some  way, 
and  left  me  to  the  solitude  of  my  room.  If  I  had  known 
that  he  was  going  in  search  of  you,  I  should  have  joined 
him." 

"  I  am  sure  he  had  no  such  purpose,"  said  Miss  Godol 
phin  ;  "  but  taking  a  turn  through  the  walks  of  the  public 
garden,  after  a  visit  to  Leasowes,  with  Miss  Wordsworth, 
we  had  the  good  fortune  to  meet  Mr.  Waring." 

"  Of  course,"  said  De  Vane.  "  Fortunate  man  !  I  must 
hereafter  keep  close  by  his  side." 

Esther  was  much  amused,  and  Miss  Godolphin  ex 
claimed  :  "  A  willful  man  will  have  his  way." 

A  rich  silver  tea-service  was  brought  in  by  a  footman, 
and  small  tables  were  placed  by  the  chair  of  each  guest ; 
he  then,  after  placing  on  the  table  a  silver  waiter,  filled 
with  light  gateaux  and  confitures,  withdrew.  Mrs.  Hab- 
ersham  took  her  seat  near  the  tea-service,  and  made  the 
tea,  the  gentlemen  passing  it  to  the  ladies,  and  taking  their 
own  cups.  Servants  were  excluded  from  the  room,  both 
at  breakfast  and  tea,  at  Mrs.  Habersham's ;  the  European 
style  being  adopted,  which  leaves  the  family  free  to  in 
dulge  in  conversation  without  restraint. 

O 

After  tea,  Mrs.  Habersham  withdrew,  and  the  conversa 
tion  was  of  books,  especially  of  some  which  had  lately 


DE   VANE.  233 

appeared.  Sir  Walter  Scott  was  giving  to  the  press  at 
that  time  those  entertaining  books  which  have  been  so 
widely  diffused  throughout  the  world,  and  which  have 
contributed  so  much  to  cheer  the  hours  of  many,  who, 
without  them,  would  have  been  listless,  or  would  have 
turned  to  amusements  less  innocent  than  reading  pages 
which  are  full  of  refinement,  of  taste,  and  of  culture. 
He  has  almost  dramatized  history  ;  and  often,  with  a  slen 
der  thread  of  fiction,  has  guided  the  mind  through  an  ex 
tended  view  of  real  events  and  actual  objects.  His  poet 
ical  and  his  prose  works  were  both  discussed. 

"  His  poetry  is  very  pleasing,"  said  Miss  Godolphin, 
"  but  it  possesses  no  depth  of  sentiment,  no  passion.  It 
charms  by  its  descriptions  and  its  narrations." 

De  Vane  said  :  "  He  abandoned  the  field  of  poetry  to 
explore  another,  which  he  has  shown  to  be  very  attractive. 
His  historical  novels  are  charming.  They  possess  a  dra 
matic  interest,  which  is  so  attractive  to  all  classes." 

"  The  great  charm  of  Scott,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  is 
iiis  genial  nature,  his  kindliness.  One  feels  safe  under  his 
guidance ;  and  no  matter  where  he  may  lead  you,  he  will, 
you  are  sure,  protect  you,  and  bring  you  back  from  lake, 
or  mountain  height,  or  tournament,  or  battle,  safely.  He 
is  your  friend  all  the  way  that  you  journey  in  his  com 
pany."  -  1 

Esther  spoke  of  the  Bride  of  Lammermoor  as  evincing 
more  of  depth  of  sentiment  than  any  of  his  tales  which 
she  had  read,  and  said  :  "  It  depresses  me  sadly  to  read  it. 
There  is  scarcely  any  thing  of  the  kind  which  affects  me 
so  much." 

"  It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,"  said  De  Vane.  "  It  is 
.ntensely  sad.  Every  incident  in  the  progress  of  the  story 
throws  its  sombre  shadow  over  the  future.  The  scene  at 
the  fountain  is  full  of  this — the  fluttering  raven  falling  at 
the  feet  of  Ravenswood  and  Miss  Ashton,  pierced  with  an 


231  DE  VANE. 

arrow,  the  blood  staining  her  white  dress.  I  do  not  won 
der  that  the  book  depresses  you.  Never  read  it." 

"  The  declining  fortunes,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  of  Ra- 
venswood,  his  pride,  his  dignity,  his  nobleness,  are  to  me 
very  affecting.  It  is  dreadful  to  witness  the  struggle  be 
tween  a  noble,  generous,  proud  spirit,  and  the  adverse  for 
tunes  which  he  encounters  in  striving  to  uphold  the  claims 
of  his  house.  Such  a  social  spectacle  is  at  any  time  heart 
rending." 

"  No  man,"  said  Waring,  "  should  carry  on  such  a 
struggle.  It  can  only  occur  where  society  is  organized 
upon  a  basis  too  artificial  to  be  stable.  Every  man  should 
be  willing  to  work  for  his  living,  when  it  becomes  neces 
sary  to  do  so.  He  is  the  happier  for  it,  and  far  more  re 
spectable." 

"  Yes,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  in  this  country  that  is 
quite  true ;  but  in  a  country  where  no  labor  is  reputable 
but  military  service,  it  is  not  so.  Indeed,  even  in  this 
country,  there  is  sometimes  a  painful  yielding  to  declining 
fortunes  in  families  accustomed  to  wealth." 

"  But,"  said  Waring,  "  it  ought  not  to  be  so  anywhere. 
Labor  ought  always  to  be  reputable.  Self-reliance,  inde 
pendence — these  are  heroic  qualities,  and  these  ought  to 
be  encouraged.  I  have  seen  young  men,  whose  fathers 
were  loaded  with  debt,  and  were  struggling  to  bear  up 
under  its  burdens,  too,  I  will  not  say  proud — I  will  not 
degrade  the  term  by  such  an  application  of  it — too  mean 
to  work,  and  actually  seeking  to  obtain  credit  upon  the 
account  of  these  very  fathers,  when  it  required  some  ad 
dress  to  do  it.  That  spectacle  humiliates  me." 

He  spoke  with  energy,  and  De  Yane  looked  at  him  with 
admiration. 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you,  Mr.  Waring,"  said  Miss  Godol 
phin,  "  in  that  view.  You  can  not  state  it  too  strongly  for 
me.  But  when  the  blow  first  falls — when  the  extent  of 


DE   VAXE.  235 

the  calamity  is  not  known — when  the  hope  of  better  times 
has  not  yet  died  out,  and  when  the  persons  are  hardly 
fitted  for  the  rough  service  of  life,  ah  !  then  the  blasts  of 
adversity  are  keenly  felt." 

"  There  are  doubtless  such  cases,"  said  Waring.  "  But 
I  am  very  impatient  at  the  attempt  that  I  see  sometimes 
made,  in  this  country,  to  put  labor  under  the  ban.  I  honor 
it,  and  if  there  be  any  one  to  whom  I  would  bow  reverently 
and  take  off  my  hat,  it  is  to  a  mechanic,  with  bent  form 
and  stiffened  frame,  who  is  making  his  way  with  feeble 
steps  toward  a  home  which  he  has  worn  out  his  life  in  try 
ing  to  make  a  happy  one." 

Miss  Godolphin's  eyes  filled  with  tears.  "  Ah  !  Mr.  War 
ing,"  she  said,  "  I  honor  the  sentiment,  as  much  as  you  do 
the  bent  laborer.  You  are  not  more  sturdily  American 
than  I  am." 

"  I  have  never  doubted  that,"  said  he.  "  You  are  too 
earnest  to  sympathize  with  a  heartless  social  system,  that 
wishes  to  degrade  industry,  and  stamp  self-reliance  as  ple 
beian.  But,"  he  continued,  after  a  moment's  pause,  "  while 
I  have  known  such  cases,  Miss  Godolphin,  as  those  to 
which  you  refer,  where  the  sudden  reverses  of  life  have 
brought  great  wretchedness,  I  have  witnessed  other  in 
stances  which  were  more  deplorable  still ;  instances  where 
daughters,  thoroughly  educated,  and  competent  to  teach, 
had  disdained  the  slightest  exertion  when  misfortunes  came 
that  brought  distress,  and  painful,  exhausting  toil  upon  the 
father  who  had  supplied  them  with  every  luxury  in  their 
better  days.  How  much  better,  how  much  happier,  how 
much  more  respectable  they  would  have  been,  if  with  their 
hands  they  had  ministered  to  the  wants  of  the  family,  and 
solaced  the  anxieties  that  bowed  the  form  of  one  whose 
cup  was  made  still  more  bitter  by  the  thought  that  he 
could  no  longer  meet  the  wishes  and  gratify  the  tastes  of 


236  DE  VANE. 

those  who  hung  about  him !  I  love  and  honor  independ 
ence  unspeakably." 

"  Miss  Godolphin's  criticism,"  said  De  Vane,  "  or  rather 
her  appreciative  remark  as  to  the  unhappy  condition  of 
Ravens  wood,  is  a  perfectly  just  one.  His  position,  and  the 
country  and  the  times  in  which  he  lived,  made  it  impos 
sible  that  he  could  do  any  thing  to  better  his  fortunes,  ex 
cept  as  a  soldier ;  and  sad  as  it  was  to  see  the  quicksands 
of  Kelpie's  Flow  close  over  him  and  his  horse,  as  he  rode 
to  meet  Douglas  Ashton,  I  experienced  a  sense  of  relief  too. 
I  could  not  bear  to  see  him  struggling  in  the  midst  of  life 
long  humiliations.  Better  death  than  that.  His  own  mourn 
ful  words  spake  the  nobleness  of  his  nature,  when  he  said 
to  the  faithful  Caleb :  '  You  have  no  longer  a  master.  Why, 
old  man,  would  you  cling  to  a  falling  tower  ?' " 

Esther  had  said  nothing  for  some  time.  She  was  deeply 
interested  in  the  discussion  which  had  been  going  on,  and 
as  De  Vane  made  his  last  remark,  she  fixed  her  eyes  upon 
him  with  unconscious  earnestness.  She  sympathized  pro 
foundly  with  him,  and  she  comprehended  how  a  grand 
nature  like  his  might,  under  some  circumstances,  grow 
weary  of  life,  if  there  were  not  something  to  cheer  the 
spirit  beyond  the  visible  objects  of  time. 

"  Do  you  then,  Mr.  De  Vane,"  she  said,  "  not  agree  with 
Hamlet,  that  we  should 

'  rather  bear  those  ills  we  have, 
Than  fly  to  others  that  we  know  not  of'  ?" 

"  Ah  !  he  spoke  of  taking  one's  own  life,"  said  De  Vane. 
"  That,  I  think,  is  never  to  be  done,  certainly  never  to  be 
looked  to,  as  an  escape  from  the  weariness  of  life.  But  I 
spoke  of  perishing  by  some  casualty." 

"  Even  then,"  she  said,  "  sudden  death  is  terrible ;  for  it 
precipitates  us  into 


DE   VANE.  237 

*  The  undiscovered  country,  from  whose  bourn 
No  traveler  returns.' " 

De  Vane  looked  grave.  Waring  said  nothing,  but  smiled. 

"  Death,  under  any  circumstances,"  said  Miss  Godolphin, 
"is  appalling." 

"  Far  from  it,"  said  Waring.  I  hare  seen  it  under  cir 
cumstances  which  made  it  luminous  and  triumphant." 

"  So  have  I — once,"  said  De  Vane. 

A  silence — stillness — reigned  for  some  moments. 

At  length  Miss  Godolphin  said  :  "  That  Bride  of  Lam- 
merrnoor  has  saddened  us  all.  Poor  Lucy  Ashton  !  Let 
us  turn  to  something  gayer." 

She  rose,  and  rang  for  a  servant.  "Bring  us  some  ices," 
she  said. 

He  presently  returned  with  refreshments,  and  left  the 
room  again. 

"  How  delicious  ices  are  !"  said  Esther ;  "  water-ices 
especially  !" 

"  Yes,"  said  Miss  Godolphin.  "  I  find  them  refreshing 
in  mid-winter." 

After  some  general  conversation,  Esther  said  : 

"  Miss  Godolphin,  when  I  was  last  here,  Mr.  De  Vane 
called  my  attention  to  a  picture  in  the  drawing-room  where 
we  were  that  evening,  which  greatly  interested  me.  Will 
you  give  me  its  history  ?" 

Miss  Godolphin  looked  at  De  Vane  quickly. 

"  I  said  nothing  to  Miss  Wordsworth  of  its  history,"  he 
said.  "  I  pointed  it  out  to  her,  but  we  left  the  room  soon 
after,  and  I  made  no  explanations." 

"  Then  you  know  its  history  ?"  said  Esther,  turning  to 
him  with  surprise. 

"  Only  what  I  have  told  him,"  said  Miss  Godolphin, 
"  and  you  shall  soon  learn  that.  It  so  happened  that  when 
we  were  in  Naples  the  last  winter  we  passed  in  Europe, 


238  DE   VANE. 

we  visited  the  studio  of  an  eminent  artist  from  our  own 
country,  and  we  saw  the  picture  there.  My  aunt  purchased 
several  of  his  paintings — some  of  them  very  costly — and  I 
two  or  three.  Struck  with  the  beauty  and  exquisite  finish 
of  the  large  picture  to  which  you  refer — that  which  repre 
sents  Salome,  the  daughter  of  Herodias,  bearing  the  head 
of  John  the  Baptist  to  her  mother — I  offered  to  purchase 
it.  The  artist  refused  to  sell  it,  and  said  he  valued  it 
highly,  not  only  as  one  of  his  very  best  pictures,  but  be 
cause  it  was  associated  with  recollections  that  endeared  it 
to  him.  He  made  no  further  explanation,  and,  of  course, 
I  could  ask  for  none.  Some  days  after  I  called  again,  and 
was  standing  before  the  picture  which  so  powerfully  at 
tracted  me,  when  the  artist  came  to  me,  and  said  that  I 
seemed  really  to  value  the  painting  which  I  was  examin 
ing  ;  that  he  had  painted  it  in  Rome,  during  the  last  sea 
son  ;  that  it  was  endeared  to  him  by  associations  of  the 
strongest  kind ;  that  nothing  could  induce  him  to  sell  it, 
but  that  he  had  the  means  of  reproducing  it,  if  he  should 
desire  to  do  so  at  some  future  time ;  and  that  as  I  appre 
ciated  it,  he  would  present  it  to  me  if  I  would  accept  it, 
adding  that  it  would  be  seen  in  that  part  of  his  native 
country  where  he  most  desired  to  be  favorably  known.  I, 
of  course,  thanked  him  warmly,  and  did  not  refuse  it.  He 
said  he  would  have  it  forwarded  to  my  address.  A  few 
weeks  since,  it  arrived,  and  when  it  was  hung,  I  then  saw 
the  wonderful  resemblance  which  Salome  bore  to  yourself. 
This  is  the  history  of  the  picture.  Let  us  go  and  see  it." 

Rising  from  her  seat,  she  rang  for  a  servant,  and  ordered 
the  green  drawing-room  to  be  lighted. 

"It  is  very  strange,"  said  Esther.  "It  must,  of  course, 
be  an  accidental  resemblance." 

"  I  should  suppose  so,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  if  the  re 
semblance  were  less  striking,  and  limited  to  the  features; 
but  the  fidelity  of  the  picture  to  features,  form,  hair,  ex- 


DE   VANE.  239 

pression,  is  so  remarkable,  that  I  confess  I  think  a  mystery 
surrounds  it  which  we  do  not  yet  comprehend." 

Speaking  with  great  earnestness,  she  rose  and  conducted 
the  party  into  the  drawing-room  with  green  silk  hangings 
and  furniture.  It  was  octagonal  in  form,  and  on  one  of  the 
panels,  suspended  by  a  rich,  heavy  cord  of  green  silk, 
with  tassels  touching  the  elaborate  frame,  was  the  picture. 
The  room  was  well  lighted ;  and  as  the  party  entered  it, 
the  figure  of  the  Jewish  maiden,  with  her  flowing  white 
robes  and  crimson  shawl,  her  face  turned  upon  the  specta 
tors,  seemed  to  breathe  with  life  and  emotion,  and  the  re 
semblance  to  Esther  was  so  perfect  as  to  be  absolutely 
startling.  She  herself  stood  in  mute  astonishment,  and  as 
she  fixed  her  lustrous  eyes  upon  the  picture,  they  swam  in 
tears,  and  her  lips  parting,  unconsciously  she  said,  scarcely 
loud  enough  to  be  heard  even  by  De  Yane,  upon  whose 
arm  she  rested  :  "  Oh  !  how  like  my  mother  !" 

Her  emotion  was  observed,  and  too  much  respect  was 
felt  for  it,  to  disturb  her  fixed  gaze  upon  the  picture. 

After  some  moments  she  said :  "  I  have  in  my  possession, 
Miss  Godolphin,  a  portrait  which  you  have  never  seen.  It 
is  of  my  mother,  and  hangs  in  my  own  chamber.  It  was 
painted  for  her  when  she  was  of  my  age,  and  the  name  of 
the  artist  is  unknown  to  me,  but  the  picture  is  of  the 
highest  style  of  art." 

"  It  is  strange,"  said  Miss  Godolphin.  "  I  confess  my 
self  wholly  unable  to  explain  it." 

"  The  picture  is  a  glorious  one,"  said  De  Vane.  "  I  never 
saw  one  so  fine." 

"  It  is  one  of  extraordinary  beauty,"  said  Waring,  "  and 
I  now  see  that  the  resemblance  to  Miss  "Wordsworth  is 
even  more  faithful  than  I  had  supposed  it  to  be,  when  I 
first  saw  it." 

Miss  Godolphin  conducted  them  to  the  other  paintings 


240  DE  VANE. 

which  adorned  the  walls ;  and  as  they  reached  her  own 
portrait,  they  stood  to  examine  it. 

"  It  is  superb,"  said  De  Vane.  "  It  impressed  me  the  first 
time  I  saw  it.  Not  only  is  the  likeness  remarkable,  but 
the  whole  painting  is  wonderfully  fine." 

"  How  little  good  taste  is  usually  shown  in  portraits  !" 
said  Waring.  "The  awkwardness,  stiffness,  and  conceit 
make  them  unbearable ;  but  this  is  free  from  faults." 

"The  criticism,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "is  a  very  just 
one.  A  difficulty  sometimes  occurs  as  to  costume.  The 
changing  styles,  not  only  of  different  ages,  but  those  which 
occur  in  the  course  of  a  very  few  years,  give  to  portraits, 
in  some  instances,  a  quaint  and  even  a  ludicrous  appear 
ance." 

"  There  should,"  said  De  Vane,  "  be  as  little  of  modern 
costume  introduced  in  a  picture  as  possible.  The  drapery 
should  be  loose  and  flowing.  The  nearest  approximation 
to  the  classical  style  is  the  best ;  best  in  every  way,  for  it 
is  quite  certain  that  the  standard  of  perfection  in  the  arts 
was  attained  under  the  skies  of  Greece." 

"  Your  remark,"  said  Esther,  "  is  especially  true  of  statu 
ary.  The  drapery  should  be  flowing.  The  toga  was  the 
most  becoming  garment  ever  worn  by  your  sex." 

"  Perfectly  true,"  said  De  Vane,  "  and  I  should  be  pleased 
to  go  back  to  it.  How  shocking  it  is  to  see  buttons,  for 
instance,  either  in  bronze  or  marble,  on  the  skirts  of  ladies, 
more  or  less  ample  !" 

"  I  am  not  at  all  sure  that  I  agree  with  you,"  said  War 
ing.  "  I  do  not  think  it  appropriate  to  see  modern  heroes 
and  statesmen  represented  in  ancient  costume,  and  espe 
cially  half-nude. 

"  I  am  astonished  at  you,"  said  De  Vane.  "  The  nearer 
nude  you  produce  the  statue,  the  more  closely  do  you  ap 
proach  the  well-established  principles  of  art.  Art  has 
principles  as  well  defined,  and  laws  as  binding,  as  any  of 


DE  VANE. 

the  sciences ;  and  you  can  not  depart  from  them  without 
detriment  to  the  subject." 

"  I  should  subordinate  every  thing,"  said  Waring,  "  to 
higher  laws  than  those  of  taste  ;  and  I  am  not  at  all  sure 
that  by  exhibiting  the  half-nude  form  of  a  hero — certainly 
of  a  statesman,  and  to  go  higher  still,  of  an  apostle — you 
do  not  impair  the  impression  of  dignity  which  it  is  the 
wish  of  the  artist  to  create." 

"  Rank  heresy !"  said  De  Vane.  "  Bless  my  soul !  War 
ing,  you  must  positively  review  your  impressions  of  art. 
Look  at  all  the  representations  of  the  human  form  in  sculp 
ture  or  painting — from  the  time  of  Phidias  and  Apollo 
will  now — and  you  will  find  them  more  or  less  nude.  If 
you  exclude  the  ancients  as  heathens — as  I  suspect  you  are 
inclined  to  do — then  take  the  artists  from  the  time  when 
the  Christian  era  dawned,  and  when  every  thing  began  to 
adjust  itself  to  the  new  order  of  thought  and  emotion,  and 
you  will  find  my  view  confirmed.  Take  the  sculpture,  the 
.paintings  of  those  days,  the  pictures  of  the  apostles,  of 
saints  of  both  sexes,  and  see  if  you  will  not  find  a  universal 
concurrence  in  the  principles  of  taste,  especially  in  the 
grand  principle,  that  the  human  form  must  be  presented 
with  as  little  drapery  as  is  consistent  with  cultivated 
taste." 

"  There  is  one  exception  to  the  principle  which  you  lay 
down,  Mr.  De  Vane,"  said  Miss  Godolphin.  "  The  blessed 
Virgin  is  everywhere  in  full  drapery.  I  do  not  know  that 
I  can  recall  another  instance  in  which  your  law  is  not  well 
settled  in  its  application  to  the  works  of  the  great  mas 
ters,  both  in  sculpture  and  painting." 

"And  the  exception  which  you  state,"  said  Waring, 
"is -so  fully  sustained  by  the  sentiment  of  the  world,  that 
it  proves  it  to  be  well  founded.  It  rests  upon  a  principle 
of  our  nature,  and  it  is  only  education  which  can  accus 
tom  the  eye  to  any  great  departure  from  it." 
11 


242  DE  VANE. 

"  Suppose  Hercules,  throttling  the  Nemean  lion,"  said 
De  Yane,  "  or  Laocoon  and  his  sons  in  the  folds  of  the  ser 
pent,  were  represented  in  drapery,  would  not  the  impres 
sion  be  destroyed?  Or  the  dying  gladiator — would  it 
not  impair  the  effect  ?  I  admit  that  in  painting,  the  ad 
justment  of  drapery  is  more  tractable,  and  therefore  to  be 
more  modified,  to  suit  even  an  uncultivated  taste.  But  at 
all  events,  let  us  not  insist  on  coats  and  vests  for  gentle 
men,  or  a  very  literal  copying  even  of  the  dresses  of  our 
ladies,  either  in  sculpture  or  painting." 

They  all  laughed,  and  were  passing  to  another  picture, 
when  a  servant  entered,  and  approaching  Miss  Godolphin, 
informed  her  that  Miss  Wordsworth's  carriage  had  arriv 
ed.  All  exclaimed  against  such  an  early  departure ;  but 
upon  looking  at  the  clock,  it  was  discovered  that  the  hour 
was  really  a  late  one. 

It  was  agreed  that  on  the  evening  after  the  next,  which 
would  be  Thursday,  they  should  meet  again  at  Mrs. 
Springfield's. 

Waring  and  De  Vane  both  drove  with  Esther  to  her 
door,  and  then  took  leave  of  her,  declining  to  be  taken 
home  in  the  carriage. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

"AND  would  we  aught  behold  of  higher  worth 
Than  that  inanimate  cold  world  allowed 
To  the  poor,  loveless,  ever-anxious  crowd — 
Ah  !  from  the  soul  itself  must  issue  forth 
A  light,  a  glory,  a  fair  luminous  cloud 
Enveloping  the  earth." 

SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGB. 

THE  arrangements  for  De  Vane's  departure  were  nearly 
Completed.  He  must  go,  reluctant  as  he  was  to  quit  the 
enchanted  circle  in  which  he  moved,  giving  and  receiving 
pleasure.  His  sense  of  duty  imperiously  exerted  its  con 
trol  over  him.  Such  was  his  organization,  that  strong  as 
his  passions  were,  they  were  under  the  dominion  of  his 
principles.  The  tide  might  swell  with  apparently  resist 
less  power,  and  the  waves  lash  the  resounding  shore,  but 
they  were  stayed  by  a  law  of  his  nature  that  they  could 
not  overcome.  The  sensibility  which  characterized  him, 
made  him  seem,  to  a  casual  obse»ver,  too  warm  for  steady 
resistance  to  his  inclinations  ;  but  those  who  knew  him 
comprehended  how  firmly  he  could  plant  himself  when  he 
made  up  his  mind  that  it  was  his  duty  to  hold  his  posi 
tion.  He  was  easily  influenced  by  his  tastes,  and  attract 
ed  or  repelled  by  what  pleased  or  offended  his  sense  of  the 
beautiful ;  but  when  an  appeal  was  made  to  his  sense  of 
right,  the  decision  was  made  in  obedience  to  that.  He 
must  return  home,  and  he  decided  to  leave  the  following 
Monday.  The  invitation  for  Thursday  evening  cheered 
him.  He  would  once  more  enjoy  a  visit  to  a  family  to 

(243) 


244  DE   VANE. 

which  he  had  become  strongly  attached  ;  for,  independent 
of  his  very  deep  interest  in  Esther,  his  respect  and  regard 
for  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Springfield  were  strong.  He  retained 
his  room  at  Mrs.  Bowen's,  assuring  her  that  he  should  re- 
enter  it  in  October,  and  giving  directions  that  his  books 
and  furniture  should  be  looked  after  during  his  absence. 
His  room  was  his  home — he  loved  it — and  he  could  not 
think  of  tearing  himself  away  from  a  place  so  dear  to  him 
as  the  town  where  he  had  passed  the  happiest  years  of  his 
life,  without  holding  his  claim  upon  one  spot — that  he 
might  think  of,  in  his  absence,  as  his  own.  How  the  soul 
clings  to  inanimate  objects,  and  invests  them  with  its  own 
light  ! 

When  Thursday  evening  came,  De  Yane  and  Waring 
took  their  walk,  turning  their  steps  toward  the  College. 
They  walked  through  the  deserted  campus,  and  felt  the 
sadness  of  its  loneliness.  They  lingered  but  a  little  while, 
and  then  returned,  going  directly  to  Mr.  Springfield's. 

Miss  Godolphin  was  already  there.  The  house  was  a 
delightful  one,  full  of  objects  of  grace  and  beauty — books, 
engravings,  statuettes,  instruments  of  music.  The  latest 
reviews  were  laid  upon  the  table.  The  snowy  muslin  cur 
tains,  through  which  the  summer  air  came  freshly,  gave 
an  appearance  of  lightness  and  purity  which  was  exhila 
rating,  and  the  chintz-covered  furniture  was  tasteful  and 
elegant. 

There  is  a  wonderful  charm  about  some  homes.  The 
moment  you  enter  them,  you  feel  refreshed ;  while  others, 
with  heavy  magnificence,  are  sombre  and  uninviting. 

Mrs.  Springfield  received  them. 

"  We  are  happy  to  see  you,"  she  said ;  "  but  you  should 
have  come  earlier.  The  evenings  are  short." 

"  I  said  so  to  Mr.  De  Yane,"  said  Waring,  "  but  he  lin 
gered  about  the  College  campus,  looking  once  more  at  the 


DE   VANE.  245 

scenes  of  his  former  triumphs,  a  little  longer  than  we  in 
tended  to  do." 

"  Ah  !  Mr.  De  Vane,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  you  will 
leave  us  ?  I  shall  not  flatter  you  by  saying  how  much  we 
shall  regret  you." 

"  If  any  thing,"  said  De  Yane,  "  could  cheer  me  in  leav 
ing  this  place,  it  would  be  the  thought  that  my  absence 
would  be  felt  by  any  one." 

"  That  is  a  very  modest  speech,  Mr.  De  Yane,"  said  Miss 
Godolphin.  "You  must  know,  of  course,  how  much  we 
shall  lose  in  giving  you' up,  especially  at  this  season." 

De  Yane  bowed,  and  said :  "  My  absence  will  be  but 
for  some  three  months — scarcely  that,  indeed ;  and  I  shall 
hasten  my  return,  in  the  hope  of  enjoying  society  which 
has  been  so  agreeable  to  me.  My  friend,  Mr.  Waring,  is 
to  keep  me  informed,  too,  of  movements  here." 

"  Yery  well,"  said  Miss  Godolphin  ;  "  we  shall  get  our 
accounts  of  you  through  him,  and  quite  regularly,  I  hope." 

"  You  are  very  good,"  said  De  Yane ;  "  and  I  shall 
promise  myself  the  happiness  of  hearing,  in  the  same  way, 
often  from  those  of  whom  I  shall  think  so  constantly  when 
absent." 

"  Yes,"  said  Waring,  "  I  undertake  to  write  faithfully 
whatever  is  said  to  me  here,  and  to  report  your  messages." 

"  So  that  is  arranged,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield.  "  I  am 
very  glad  that  it  is  so.  In  the  mean  while,  we  shall  exert 
ourselves  to  make  the  weeks  pass  as  agreeably  as  possible." 

"  For  my  part,"  said  Waring,  "  I  take  no  pleasure  in  sum 
mer  travel.  To  me  it  is  much  more  agreeable  to  be  at 
home.  This  business  of  seeking  pleasure  is  very  irksome." 

"  How  perfectly  I  agree  with  you !"  said  Esther.  "Above 
all  things,  to  rush  into  crowded  hotels,  or  to  stay  at 
thronged  watering-places,  is  to  me  the  most  wearisome 
way  of  life  that  I  have  ever  yet  seen." 

"  Nothing  short  of  dreadful,"  said  Miss  Godolphin. 


246  DE  VANE. 

"  It  is  true,"  said  Esther,  "  one  meets  very  agreeable  peo 
ple  at  some  of  those  places ;  but  the  manner  of  life  is  very, 
very  distasteful  to  me." 

"  Far  better  get  a  farm-house  in  the  country,  hid  away 
in  some  mountain  gorge,  where  you  hear  the  songs  of  birds, 
the  lowing  of  cattle,  the  clear  human  voice  breaking  the 
stillness  of  the  air ;  and  see  fruits,  and  flowers,  and  the 
sweet  face  of  nature;  and  get  pure  milk  and  fresh  eggs," 
said  Miss  Godolphin,  laughing. 

"  Your  picture  is  a  delightful  one,"  said  Waring. 

"  Yes,"  said  Esther,  "  and  a  true  picture.  We  found  it 
so  last  summer.  To  add  to  our  comforts,  too,  we  had 
good  horses,  and  could  ride  upon  the  side  of  the  mountain, 
or  plunge  into  the  clear,  rushing  stream — not  too  deep,  but 
yet  suggestive  of  danger — and  dash  along  the  roads  wind 
ing  through,  sequestered  vales,  without  the  fear  of  being 
remarked  about  as  too  wild." 

'  Glorious  !"  said  De  Vane.  "  And  you  ride  on  horse 
back,  do  you  ?" 

"  Ride  !"  said  Esther.  "  Why,  of  course  I  do.  Is  not 
that  a  part  of  the  education  of  a  Southern  lady  ?" 

"And  yet  I  have  never  seen  you,"  said  he.  "  How 
I  have  suffered  the  spring  to  glide  by  without  making  that 
discovery." 

"  I  do  not  ride  in  town — at  least,  very  rarely,"  she 
replied. 

"And  you  ride,  too,  Miss  Godolphin,"  said  De  Vane,  "  I 
am  to  presume,  after  what  Miss  Wordsworth  has  said  ?" 

"  Certainly ;  and  we  intend  to  perfect  ourselves  in  that 
way  during  your  absence,  as  the  town  will  be  pretty  much 
deserted." 

"  Pardon  me,  ladies,"  said  De  Vane  ;  "  I  really  supposed 
that  our  mountain  region  only  furnished  rivals  for  Diana 
Vernon.  I  am  greatly  pleased  to  make  this  discovery; 


DE  VAtfE.  247 

and  when  I  return,  I  shall  hope  to  join  you.  October  is  a 
glorious  month  for  equestrian  exercise." 
'  "  Very  well,"  said  Miss  Godolphin.  "  We  shall  hold  our 
selves  in  readiness,  and  you  must  prepare  for  break-neck 
adventures,  for  we  shall  be  fearless  equestriennes  by  that 
time." 

"  I  hope,  ladies,"  said  Waring,  "  that  you  will,  in  the 
mean  while,  permit  me  sometimes  to  join  you." 

"We  shall  be  most  happy,"  said  Esther,  "to  have  you 
with  us." 

"You  are  making  my  leave-taking,  ladies,"  said  De 
Vane,  "  a  harder  task  for  me  than  it  was  before." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Miss  Godolphin  ;  "  if  gentlemen  will 
go  on  their  summer  rambles,  we  must  seek  what  compen 
sation  we  may." 

She  was  very  bright ;  and  De  Yane  observed  how  much 
more  cheerful  she  was  when  in  the  presence  of  those  who 
were  with  her  this  evening,  than  when  in  larger  and  gayer 
circles. 

Mr.  Springfield,  who  had  been  out  riding,  came  in,  and 
all  rose  to  meet  him. 

" I  must  ask  you  to  pardon  me,"  said  he ;  "I  rode  some 
what  farther  than  I  intended,  and  was  detained  a  little 
while  on  the  road." 

"  By  nothing  disagreeable  to  you,  I  hope  ?"  said  Mrs. 
Springfield. 

"I  crossed  the  river,"  said  he,  "and  upon  my  return, 
just  before  I  reached  the  ferry,  I  met  young  Walden,  so 
much  intoxicated  as  to  be  unable  to  sit  on  his  horse  ;  and 
I  rode  back  with  him  to  his  mother's." 

"  Sad — sad  !"  exclaimed  Waring.  "  I  had  hoped  that 
he  had  reformed.  I  must  look  after  him  again." 

"  It  is  the  vice  of  our  times,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  and 
it  must  be  arrested,  or  our  young  men  will  be  destroyed." 

Mrs.  Springfield  invited  them  to  tea,  and  she  conducted 


248  DE   VANE. 

them  to  the  table.  Mr.  Springfield  preferred  the  custom 
of  sitting  at  the  table,  even  at  the  evening  meal.  For  his 
own  part,  he  said,  he  enjoyed  it  more  than  any  other ;  and 
it  was  often,  at  his  house,  the  most  prolonged  sitting  of 
the  day.  Boiled  fowls,  warm  bread,  cream,  fruits,  and 
flowers  made  it  an  attractive  meal ;  and  De  Vane  sympa 
thized  so  fully  with  Mr.  Springfield's  tastes,  that  he 
enjoyed  supper  nowhere  so  much  as  at  his  house. 

"  This  recalls,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  so  vividly  our 
way  of  living  when  we  passed  the  summer  in  Switz 
erland.  We  took  a  cottage,  and  kept  house  regularly. 
Never  did  we  live  so  delightfully.  The  cream,  the  butter, 
the  fowls,  the  fruits,  were  delicious  ;  and  as  the  sun  went 
down  behind  the  Alps,  throwing  shadows  over  us  long 
before  night,  we  were  accustomed  to  spread  our  table  in 
the  little  gallery,  about  which  the  shrubbery  grew,  and 
take  our  evening  meal.  The  lowing  of  herds  and  the 
song  of  the  mountaineers  broke  the  solemn  stillness  of 
the  hour.  Oh  !  how  superior  it  was  to  life  in  Paris,  or  in 
Florence,  or  in  Naples  !  Nature,  in  her  grandeur,  and  in 
her  simple  beauty  too,  was  about  us,  and  there  was  noth 
ing  to  remind  us  of  the  great,  noisy,  dusty,  confused  world." 

"  I  can  imagine  it  must  be  charming,"  said  Mr.  Spring 
field,  "  after  your  description.  Such  an  episode  in  life  I 
wish  very  much,  at  some  time,  to  enjoy  myself." 

"  And  you  would  not  accept  it  as  a  permanent  arrange 
ment  ?"  she  asked. 

"  Oh  !  no,"  he  said.  "  What  would  become  of  one's 
duties  ?  If  every  one  who  could  do  it,  chose  some  happy 
retreat,  where  the  sad  voice  of  humanity  could  not  disturb 
his  repose,  what  would  become  of  our  fellows  ?  our  kin 
dred  ?  of  feebler  pilgrims  than  ourselves,  fainting  by  the 
wayside,  and  wanting  a  strong  arm  to  lift  them  up  and 
help  them  along  the  rough  paths  of  life  ?" 

Miss  Godolphin  looked  at  him  earnestly,  and  Waring 


DE   VANE.  249 

observed  De  Vane's  face  beam  as  Mr.  Springfield  said 
this,  in  that  manly,  direct  way,  which  has  nothing  of  cant 
in  it,  and  which  makes  every  one  instantly  sympathize 
with  the  sincerity  of  the  speaker. 

"  But,"  he  continued,  "  I  should  be  very  much  pleased 
to  take  such  recreation  as  that,  and  it  enters  into  my  plans 
for  the  future." 

"  Are  there  many,  sir,  who  feel  as  you  do  ?"  asked  Miss 
Godolphin. 

"Many,  I  trust,"  said  he,  "  and,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  much 
more  intensely.  How  Howard  transcends  us  all :  travers 
ing  Europe — not  to  enter  its  palaces,  or  visit  its  picture- 
galleries,  or  linger  in  delightful  retreats ;  but,  in  the  lan 
guage  of  Burke,  to  gauge  the  depths  of  human  misery,  to 
let  light  and  hope  into  dungeons,  where  they  had  long 
been  strangers  !" 

"  His  was  a  sublime  life,"  said  Waring.  "  I  am  disposed 
to  think,  however,  that  there  are  many  engaged  in  humane 
and  benevolent  activities  little  known  to  us,  many  whose 
lives  are  good  and  useful,  without  being  grand." 

"  I  do  not  doubt  it,"  said  Mr.  Springfield.  "  It  is  in  that 
way  that  the  harmony  of  life  is  made  up,  and  that  in  its 
completeness  it  grows  into  a  resemblance  of  the  wide 
spread  world  of  nature.  Miss  Godolphin,  you  must  have 
some  of  these  peaches.  Let  me  select  you  one." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  she.  "  They  are  very  fine.  This 
country  of  ours  abounds  with  luxuries." 

"  It  is  a  goodly  land,"  he  said,  "  and  this  town  is  grow 
ing  up  into  great  beauty.  Skirted,  too,  with  its  sand-hills, 
we  find  summer  retreats  without  going  far  from  home." 

"  I  observe,"  said  Waring, i"  that  they  are  building  up 
rapidly.    The  environs  promise  to  be  attractive.    It  would 
not  surprise  me  to  see  permanent  residences  built  up  on 
our  sand-hills." 
11* 


250  DE   VANE. 

"  That  is  already  done,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield.  "  Some  of 
our  friends  intend  to  reside  there  permanently." 

"  It  is  much  better  to  do  so,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  than 
to  migrate  every  summer.  Home  society  should  be  culti 
vated,  and  an  extended  travel  resorted  to  for  health  and 
recreation." 

"  I  am  quite  of  your  opinion,"  said  Miss  Godolphin. 

Returning  to  the  library,  they  found  Mr.  Clarendon 
there,  and  upon  Mrs.  Springfield's  expressing  her  regret 
that  she  had  not  been  informed  of  his  coming,  that  he 
might  have  joined  them  at  the  table,  he  said  :  "  My  dear 
madam,  I  would  not  allow  myself  to  be  announced.  I  did 
not  even  ring  your  bell,  but  entering,  found  the  house 
thrown  open,  and  walked  in  unasked." 

"  You  did  just  what  you  should  have  done,"  said  Mr. 
Springfield,  "but  you  stopped  too  soon.  Will  you  not 
come  now  and  take  some  fruit  ?" 

He  declined,  and  resumed  his  seat.  The  ladies  gathered 
about  him,  and  an  animated  conversation  commenced.  He 
was  a  welcome  visitor  everywhere.  His  large  mind  and 
large  heart  were  appreciated,  and  there  was  a  blended 
stateliness  and  warmth  in  his  manners  singularly  captivat 
ing.  His  conversational  powers,  when  he  thought  proper 
to  indulge  them,  fell  but  little  short  of  his  oratory.  De 
Vane  resembled  him  in  both  respects,  and  the  sympathy 
between  them  was  strong.  Esther  was  his  special  favor 
ite,  and  he  often  called  to  sit  an  hour  with  her. 

"  I  feel  myself  slighted,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  addressing 
Esther  and  Miss  Godolphin.  "  I  am  half  inclined  to  think 
that  you  invited  these  two  young  gentlemen  to  meet  you 
this  evening,  and  overlooked  me."  He  assumed  the  look 
of  an  injured  man,  and  laid  his  hand  on  Esther's  arm. 

"  Of  course  we  could  never  overlook  you,  Mr.  Claren 
don.  It  happened  that  we  met  at  Mrs.  Habersham's  an 
evening  or  two  since,  and  it  was  arranged,  before  we  sepa- 


DE   VANE.  251 

rated,  that  we  should  meet  here  this  evening.     We  are- 
very  glad  that  you  have  done  us  the  honor  to  join  us." 

"  Then,"  said  he,  "  these  young  gentlemen  have  no 
rights  here  this  evening  that  I  may  not  enjoy  ?" 

"  None  whatever,"  said  Miss  Godolphin. 

Mr.  Clarendon  kissed  the  hand  of  each  of  them,  and 
said  :  "  Then  I  oifer  my  homage." 

"  Waring,"  said  he,  "  is  it  true  that  De  Vane  is  to  set 
upon  his  travels  shortly  ?" 

"He  insists  that  he  is  serious  in  that  purpose,"  said 
Waring,  "  and  I  must  say  that  his  preparations  begin  to 
look  very  much  as  if  it  were  so." 

"  He  has  been  trying  to  make  that  impression  on  me," 
said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  for  some  weeks,  but  I  have  never 
yet  been  able  to  bring  myself  quite  up  to  the  line  of  faith. 
It  must  require  a  greater  share  of  heroism  than  we  usually 
find  in  these  degenerate  times." 

All  laughed  heartily,  and  De  Vane  said  : 

"  You  do  not  overestimate  the  task,  Mr.  Clarendon  ;  but 
I  can  not  turn  away  from  it,  and  I  have  therefore  of  late 
addressed  myself  to  it  with  what  resolution  I  am  able  to 
command." 

"  Telemachus  quitting  the  island  without  being  precipi 
tated  from  it  by  his  Mentor,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon. 

There  was  no  replying  to  this,  and  De  Yane  could  only 
bow  his  acquiescence. 

"While  seated  here,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "I  took  up 
the  January  number  of  the  Edinburgh  Review,  Mr.  Spring 
field.  Do  you  find  it  a  good  one  ?" 

"  There  is  one  article,"  he  answered,  "  which  I  read  with 
interest.  It  is  a  notice  of  The  Songs  of  Scotland,  by  Allan 
Cunningham,  and  the  writer  proceeds  to  inquire  into  the 
utility  of  poetry." 

"  As  if  it  could  be  questioned,"  said  De  Yane. 

"  In  this  time  of  practical  truth,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon, 


252  DE  VANE. 

"  every  thing  is  questioned  which  is  not  convertible  into 
gold  and  silver.  Burke  said  long  ago,  the  age  of  chivalry 
is  gone.  That  of  sophists,  economists,  and  calculators  has 
succeeded,  and  the  glory  of  Europe  is  extinguished  for 
ever.  How  can  you  expect  poetry  to  be  esteemed  as  of 
any  value  ?" 

"  What  a  magnificent  passage  that  is  of  Burke's  !"  said 
De  Vane.  "The  finest  he  ever  uttered,  I  think." 

"  Very  eloquent,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon. 

"  The  picture  of  the  young  Queen  of  France,  glittering 
above  the  horizon  like  the  morning  star,  is  poetry,  and 
that  too  of  a  high  order,"  said  De  Vane. 

"Let  us  turn  to  it,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  taking  down 
from  a  shelf  a  volume  of  Burke's  works ;  and  handing  it  to 
De  Vane,  he  requested  him  to  find  the  passage  and  read  it. 
He  did  so,  with  great  effect. 

"  Glorious  !"  said  Esther. 

"  Splendidly  beautiful !"  exclaimed  Miss  Godolphin. 

"  If  Mr.  De  Vane  will  pardon  me,"  said  Mr.  Springfield, 
"  I  will  say  that  I  never  before  so  fully  appreciated  it." 

"  Does  the  reviewer,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  addressing 
himself  to  Mr.  Springfield,  "vindicate  the  utility  of 
poetry  ?" 

"  Fully,  it  seems  to  me,"  he  said.  "  I  am  particularly 
pleased  that  he  introduces  Lord  Bacon  as  an  advocate  for 
it,  who  commends  it  as  being  subservient  to  the  imagina 
tion — as  logic  is  to  the  understanding — and  says  its  office 
is  no  other  than  to  apply  and  commend  the  dictates  of 
reason  to  the  imagination,  for  the  better  moving  the  appe 
tite  and  will.  The  reviewer  remarks,  being  an  ally  of  rea 
son  and  logic  therefore,  according  to  Lord  Bacon,  it  is  not 
to  be  despised." 

"  Good  !"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  very  good  !" 

"  The  authority  of  Lord  Bacon  is  further  cited,"  said 
Mr.  Springfield,  "  in  this  way  :  The  end  of  poetry  is  to  fill 


DE   VAXE.  253 

the  imagination  with  observations  and  resemblances  which 
may  second  reason,  and  not  oppress  and  betray  it,  for  these 
abuses  of  art  come  in  but  ex  obliquo,  for  prevention,  not 
for  practice.  The  reviewer  adds  :  '  All  this  being  the 
case,  it  seems  that  all  speculations  for  putting  down  poetry 
must  necessarily  be  vain  and  useless.  They  are  formed 
perhaps  for  man  as  he  ought  to  be,  but  certainly  not  for 
man  as  he  is.  They  are,  in  short,  like  that  dream  of  Plato, 
which  has  been  a  dream,  and  nothing  more,  for  two  thou 
sand  years.  That  celebrated  Greek  denied  admittance  to 
a  poet  in  his  ideal  republic,  and  his  republic  has  remained 
ideal." 

"  Excellently  well  put,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon  ;  "  and  he 
might  have  added  the  testimony  of  Swift,  recorded  in 
verse : 

4  Not  empire  to  the  rising  sun, 
By  valor,  conduct,  fortune  won  ; 
Not  greatest  wisdom  in  debates, 
Or  framing  laws  for  ruling  states  ; 
Such  heavenly  influence  require, 
As  how  to  strike  the  muse's  lyre.' " 

"I  was  greatly  interested,  a  few  evenings  since,"  said 
PC  Vane,  "  in  taking  up  a  periodical,  to  find  an  article  on 
Milton,  by  Dr.  Channing.  It  is  admirable  throughout. 
He  says  that  those  who  are  accustomed  to  think  of  poetry 
as  light  reading,  may  think  of  the  writings  of  Milton  as 
only  contributions  to  public  amusement,  but  that  such 
was  not  the  thought  of  the  great  poet  himself.  Of  all 
God's  gifts  of  intellect,  he  esteemed  poetical .  genius  the 
most  transcendent.  He  esteemed  it  in  himself  a  kind  of 
inspiration,  and  wrote  his  great  works  with  the  conscious 
dignity  of  a  prophet.  Dr.  Channing  himself  adds  that 
he  agrees  with  Milton  in  his  estimate  of  poetry.  The 
great  New-England  scholar  unhesitatingly  assigns  to  the 
poetical  faculty  the  first  rank  in  his  classification  of  the 
intellectual  powers." 


254  DE  VANE. 

^ 

"  He  has  just  written,"  said  Waring,  "  a  powerful  paper 
on  Napoleon,  and  one  which  will  repay  the  time  expended 
in  reading  it." 

"  It  is  drawn  out,"  said  De  Vane,  "  by  Sir  Walter  Scott's 
life  of  the  great  captain." 

"  I  have  not  yet  read  Scott's  book,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon, 
"  but  I  must  do  so." 

"  It  is  conceived  in  no  generous  or  magnanimous  spirit," 
said  De  Yane;  "nor  do  I  think  it  even  just.  He  is  thor 
oughly  imbued  with  the  sentiment  of  those  who  made 
war  upon  Napoleon,  until  they  overthrew  him." 

"  He  should  not  have  undertaken  such  a  work,"  said  Mr. 
Springfield. 

"  But,  ladies,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  we  must  know  your 
estimate  of  poetry.  What  do  you  say,  Miss  Godolphin  ? 
Is  Lord  Byron  right  ?" 

"  Of  course,"  said  she,  "  you  would  not  expect  me  to 
venture  to  oppose  such  authority  as  that  of  the  great  phi 
losopher." 

"  You  can  not  be  excused,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon ;  "  phi 
losophers,  heroes,  statesmen,  all  yield  to  your  sex." 

"  I  agree,  then,"  she  said,  "  that  the  utility  of  poetry  is 
unquestionable;  that  it  is  charming,  no  one  doubts."  „ 

"  And  you,  Miss  Wordsworth,  what  say  you  ?  Are  we 
in  this  age  to  yield  ourselves  to  the  dominion  of  the  im 
agination,  or  to  retain  our  sober  senses  ?" 

"  We  may  do  both,  I  think,"  said  Esther.  "  Poetry  of 
the  highest  order,  such  as  Milton's,  is  consistent  with  the 
noblest  of  our  faculties,  and  is  but  a  felicitous  expression 
of  the  deductions  of  reason." 

"  I  pronounce  that  opinion  an  end  of  controversy,"  said 
Mr.  Clarendon,  "  and  I  regret  that  I  have  no  wreath  to 
crown  you  with." 

Miss  Godolphin  was  seated  near  De  Yane,  and  breaking 
from  a  vase  near  her  a  liojht  vine  brilliant  with  wild  flow- 


DE   VAXE.  255 

ers,  she  twisted  it  into  a  wreath  and  put  it  into  the  hands 
of  De  Vane,  who,  rising,  laid  it  gently  on  the  head  of 
Esther.  It  flung  its  crimson  flowers  about  her  curls,  and 
seemed  to  have  been  designed  as  an  ornament  for  the  brow 
which  it  graced.  Mr.  Clarendon  applauded,  and  Esther, 
blushing  deeply  said :  "  I  accept  the  wreath  as  a  tribute 
to  poetry,  of  which  I  happened  to  speak  with  ardor." 

"  The  wreath  is  yours  fairly,  and  poetry  is  fortunate  in 
its  representative.  A  crown  was  never  more  worthily  be 
stowed,"  said  De  Vane  in  low  tones,  as  he  stood  near  her. 
She  made  no  reply,  but  a  conscious  expression  flitted  over 
her  features. 

"  I  have  sometimes  been  at  a  loss  to  determine,"  said 
Waring,  "  whether  poetry  surpasses  the  arts  in  the  power 
of  expression." 

"  It  is  a  beautiful  field  of  inquiry,"  said  Miss  Godolphin, 
"  and  one  might  hesitate  to  decide  between  the  contend 
ing  claims  of  objects  which  so  deeply  interest  us." 

"  I  think  with  you,  Miss  Godolphin,"  said  Mr.  Claren 
don  ;  "  it  is  one  of  those  questions  upon  •  which  a  great 
deal  may  be  said  on  both  sides.  Any  one  who  visits  the 
Louvre  will  find  the  power  of  art  in  expression  so  potent 
as  to  awake  emotions  which  are  rarely  appealed  to  else 
where." 

"  But,"  said  Esther,  "  can  any  thing  equal  the  power  of 
language  ?" 

"  I  thank  you,"  said  De  Vane,  "  for  that  question ;  I  was 
about  to  ask  it  myself;  for  I  can  not  believe  that  any  art 
can  rival  language  in  the  power  of  expression — the  lan 
guage  of  passion,  I  mean,  which  poetry  is." 

"  Now,  Miss  Godolphin,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  it  be 
comes  you  to  sit  arbitress  between  these  contending  par 
ties,  for  I  believe  you  have  not  committed  yourself." 

"  Not  as  yet,"  she  said. 

"  Nor  have  I,"  said  he  ;  "  but  I  incline  to  the  arts." 


256  DE  VAXE. 

"  So  do  I,"  said  Waring ;  "  but  it  is  not  easy  to  decide 
between  objects  of  so  much  interest,  as  Miss  Godolphiu 
felicitously  says." 

"  I  have  never  seen  the  original  of  the  Dying  Gladiator," 
said  De  Vane,  "  but  there  is  in  my  home  a  very  superior 
copy,  large  and  finely  executed.  My  father  brought  it 
from  Rome.  I  have  often  admired  it,  studied  it,  thought 
that  I  entered  into  all  the  sentiments  which  it  was  intend 
ed  to  express,  and  I  was  profoundly  affected  by  it.  Some 
time  since,  in  reading  Childe  Harold,  I  found  a  description 
of  the  scene  which  art  had  essayed  to  suggest,  so  far 
transcending  the  work  itself,  which,  mute  yet  powerful, 
had  awakened  in  me  strong  emotions,  that  I  felt  as  if  I 
had  never  comprehended  it  before." 

"  Repeat  the  lines,  if  you  please,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield, 
who  was  deeply  interested  in  the  conversation. 

De  Vane  bowed  to  her,  and  said  :  "  I  think  I  can  recall 
them: 

*  I  see  before  me  the  gladiator  lie : 
He  leans  upon  his  hand  ;  his  manly  brow 
Consents  to  death,  but  conquers  agony, 
And  .his  drooped  head  sinks  gradually  low ; 
And  through  his  side  the  last  drops,  ebbing  slow 
From  the  red  gash,  fall  heavy,  one  by  one, 
Like  the  first  of  a  thunder-shower ;  and  now 
The  arena  swims  around  him — he  is  gone, 
Ere  ceased  the  inhuman  shout  which  hailed  the  wretch  who  won. 


4  He  heard  it,  but  he  heeded  not — his  eyes 
Were  with  his  heart,  and  that  was  far  away  : 
He  recked  not  of  the  life  he  lost — nor  prize  ; 
But  where  his  rude  hut  by  the  Danube  lay, 
There  were  his  young  barbarians  all  at  play — 
There  was  their  Dacian  mother — he,  their  sire, 
Butchered  to  make  a  Roman  holiday  : 
All  this  rushed  with  his  blood.  .»  w 


DE   VANE.  257 

Miss  Godolphin's  eyes  were  liquid,  and  the  tears  rolled 
down  the  cheeks  of  Esther. 

"  The  lines  are  surpassingly  fine,"  said  Mrs.  Clarendon, 
whose  eyes  were  moist. 

"  A  finer  illustration  of  the  power  of  descriptive  verse," 
said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  it  would  be  hard  to  find." 

"  Indeed  it  would,"  said  Waring. 

"Now,"  said  De  Vane,  "you  observe  the  power  of 
poetry  in  expression.  The  sculptor  represents  a  dying 
man,  full  of  manliness ;  the  gash,  the  dripping  blood,  the 
drooping  head,  are  all  seen.  But  the  poet  comes  in,  and  he 
invests  the  dying  form  with  the  deepest  moral  interest. 
The  tenderest  sympathies  of  our  nature  are  appealed  to. 
The  dying  man  is  a  father.  By  the  distant  Danube,  his 
boys,  all  unconscious  of  his  fate,  are  at  play ;  and  their 
Dacian  mother,  widowed  already,  does  not  know  it,  but 
for  long  days  will  look  for  his  coming,  but  look  in  vain." 

Every  one  who  heard  him,  exhibited  emotion.  Uncon 
sciously,  he  threw  the  power  of  his  own  eloquence  into 
the  description,  and  it  was  irresistible. 

"  I  very  well  remember,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  to  have 
seen  the  statue ;  and  I  must  confess  that  my  sensibilities 
were  never  touched  as  they  have  just  now  been  by  your 
description." 

"  I  saw  it,  too,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  not  a  great  while 
since,  and  it  never  moved  me  as  the  words  uttered  by  Mr. 
De  Vane  have  done.  I  looked  at  it  as  a  work  of  art.  Its 
moral  aspect  had  not  occurred  to  me." 

"  It  was  injured  at  one  time,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon.  "  The 
right  arm  is  a  restoration  by  Michael  Angelo." 

"  Still,"  said  Waring,  "  what  are  the  lines  but  a  descrip 
tion  of  a  work  of  art  ?  Did  not  the  statue  awaken  in  a 
man  of  genius  the  very  sentiments  it  was  intended  to  em- 
bocly?" 

'•  Oh  !  no,"  snid  De  Vane,  "  the  artist,  it  is  believed,  only 


258  DS   VANE. 

intended  to  express  his  idea  of  manly  death ;  of  a  dying 
man  exhibiting  all  of  life  that  was  left  in  him,  in  its  grand 
est  form.  The  power  of  expression  in  the  poetry  far  tran 
scends  that  of  the  statue  itself." 

"  Walking  one  day,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  through  the 
Louvre,  I  entered  the  Spanish  gallery,  and  my  attention 
was  arrested  by  the  figure  of  a  prostrate  man  in  deep 
grief.  I  stood,  and  studied  the  painting ;  it  was  one  of 
great  power;  and  it  proved  to  be  a  representation  of  the 
repenting  grief  of  St.  Peter.  The  conception  of  the  artist 
was  a  high  triumph  of  genius.  I  had  been  accustomed  to 
depict  the  apostle  as  bowed  down  with  the  weight  of  his 
grief,  unable  to  lift  his  head,  and  his  whole  form  prostrate. 
This  was  the  picture  of  my  imagination.  Not  so  that  of 
the  Spanish  painter.  He  represents  St.  Peter  kneeling ; 
his  body  drooping  forward,  but  the  face  upturned^  as  if 
the  eyes  were  seeking  some  revealing  light  which  might 
shed  the  faintest  gleam  over  the  darkness  of  his  spirit ; 
and  his  mouth  was  open,  the  muscles  too  much  relaxed  by 
the  anguish  of  his  soul  to  support  the  lower  jaw.  The 
hands  were  clasped,  but  not  upraised ;  and  the  whole 
expression  was  that  of  unutterable  but  not  rayless  grief. 
Sorrow  had  deepened  into  agony,  which  could  be  expressed 
in  no  way  but  by  the  attitude,  the  tears,  the  uplifted  face 
of  the  apostle,  wounded  by  a  look  from  his  Lord.  Now, 
I  had  again  and  again  read  the  account  of  the  fall  of  St. 
Peter,  as  it  stands  in  the  inspired  record,  and  I  had  read, 
too,  what  sacred  poetry  could  utter  in  delineating  it ;  but 
none  of  its  lines  rivaled  the  simple,  touching  narrative 
of  the  Evangelist,  who  informs  us  that  when  the  Lord 
turned  and  looked  upon  Peter,  he  went  out  and  wept  bit 
terly.  Still,  I  must  say,  that  account,  aifecting  as  it  is, 
did  not  awaken  in  me  the  emotions  excited  by  the  picture 
in  the  Spanish  gallery  of  the  Louvre." 

Every  one  was  moved  by  the  statement  of  Mr.  Claren- 


DE  VANE.  259 

don.     His  fine  manner  and  extraordinarily  earnest  tones 
made  a  deep  impression. 

"  After  all,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  Miss  Godolphin  will 
find  it  a  hard  task  to  decide  between  the  power  of  poetry 
and  art." 

"  Oh  !  yes,"  said  she,  "  I  must  decline  it." 

A  servant  entered  with  ices  and  fruits ;  and  Mr.  Claren 
don  said : 

"  We  revel  in  luxuries  this  evening.  Poetry,  the  arts, 
fruits,  flowers,  ices.  The  ancients  never  equaled  us  with 
all  their  boasted  civilization." 

"  I  am  afraid  that  you  will  rouse  my  friend  De  Yane 
into  opposition  again,"  said  Waring,  "  if  you  exalt  modern 
civilization  to  any  thing  like  equality  with  that  of  the 
ancients." 

"  Ah  !  yes,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon  ;  "  but  I  shall  put  him 
on  the  defensive  this  time,  if  he  seeks  strife ;  and  until  he 
can  cite  some  authority  to  show  that  any  thing  the  ancients 
possessed  could  rival  these  peaches,  and  this  iced  sherbet, 
I  shall  decline  to  argue." 

"  Preferring,  I  suppose,"  said  De  Vane,  "  to  enjoy  the 
gifts  that  come  from  the  gods,  without  inquiring  whether 
they  are  partial  in  their  favors." 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  I  have  learned  to  prize 
what  I  possess,  and  to  live  with  contentment,  imbued  with 
the  spirit  of  those  fine  lines  which  your  Professor  of  Moral 
Philosophy  at  the  College  sometimes  quotes  : 

'  To  be  resigned  when  ills  betide, 
Patient  when  favors  are  denied, 

Thankful  for  favors  given — 
This,  dear  Chloe,  is  wisdom's  part, 
This  is  that  incense  of  the  heart 

Whose  fragrance  smells  to  heaven.'  n 

"  Except,"  said  De  Vane, ""  in  politics." 


260  DE   VANE. 

"  Oh  !"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  I  meant  to  be  understood 
of  the  gifts  bestowed  upon  our  physical  nature.  I  fear 
that  I  am  any  thing  but  contented  with  my  lot  in  other 
respects ;  and  I  am  especially  impatient  under  this  prone 
Administration,  which,  however,  if  it  should  please  Heaven, 
we  shall  soon  expel." 

"  Things  are  looking  well,  then  ?"  said  Mr.  Springfield. 

"  Everywhere,  even  in  New-England,"  replied  Mr.  Claren 
don  ;  "  and  New- York  is  sure  for  us." 

"I  am  anxious  to  see  General  Jackson,"  said  Miss  Go- 
dolphin.  "  I  learn  that  he  is  a  real  hero." 

"  He  is,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  in  his  character  and  his 
exploits  both." 

"  I  have  seen  him,"  said  De  Vane.  "  He  called  at  my 
father's  residence,  just  before  I  left  home,  on  his  return 
from  Washington,  having  gone  some  considerable  distance 
out  of  his  way  to  confer  with  my  father  upon  public  affairs." 

"  Do  describe  him  to  us,"  exclaimed  Miss  Godolphin. 

"  His  appearance  impressed  me.  I  was  returning  from 
an  evening's  shooting,  and  as  I  approached  the  house,  I  saw 
standing  by  the  side  of  my  father,  in  the  gallery  of  the 
house,  which  was  open  to  the  western  sky,  a  tall,  somewhat 
slightly-built  gentleman,  dressed  in  black.  He  was  with 
out  a  hat,  and  the  declining  light  of  the  evening  fell  upon 
his  person.  His  hair,  somewhat  gray,  stood  up  from  his 
forehead.  He  wore  a  pair  of  gold-framed  glasses,  and 
another  pair,  thrown  up  above  the  forehead,  rested  on  his 
hair.  His  eyes,  were  piercing,  and  their  fire  could  be  read 
through  his  glasses.  The  face  and  head  were  long ;  and 
there  was  a  character  of  unmistakable  firmness  seated  upon 
his  features.  As  I  approached  the  house,  my  father  called 
to  me,  and  advancing,  he  presented  me  to  General  Jackson, 
who  received  me  with  an  air  of  courtly  dignity.  I  was 
very  much  impressed  by  the  stately  elegance  of  his  man 
ners,  for  I  had  expected  to  meet  a  rough  Western  soldier." 


DE   VANE.  261 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Miss  Godolphin.  "  You  have  height 
ened  my  interest  in  him." 

"  He  is  distinguished,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  for  courtly 
grace.  There  is  said  to  be  something  very  fascinating  in 
his  manners." 

Mr.  Clarendon  rose  and  took  leave.  Soon  after,  Miss 
Godolphin's  carriage  was  announced,  and  Waring  accom 
panying  her  to  it,  and  driving  with  her  to  Mrs.  Haber- 
sham's,  De  Vane  lingered  a  little  while  longer,  as  if  re 
luctant  to  quit  a  place  which  had  become  so  dear  to  him." 

As  he  rose  to  leave,  Mr.  Springfield  said  to  him : 

"  I  hope  we  shall  see  you  again,  Mr.  De  Vane,  before 
you  leave  for  Virginia." 

"  Yes,  thank  you,"  said  he,  "  I  shall  call.  It  is  my  in 
tention  to  start  on  Monday,  and  I  shall  call  in  the  mean 
while.  Good  night !" 

He  bowed  very  low,  and  walked  away  alone,  saddened 
by  the  thought  of  his  coming  leave-taking. 


CHAPTER    XXH. 

"FABKWELL!  thou  art  too  dear  for  my  possessing, 
And  like  enough  thou  know'st  thy  estimate." 

SHAKESPEARE. 

To  turn  away  from  the  presence  of  those  who  are  dear 
to  us,  even  when  it  is  believed  that  the  separation  will  be 
for  but  a  few  weeks,  is  no  light  task.  The  uncertainties 
that  attend  us  in  life,  at  every  step,  admonish  us  that  great 
changes  may  occur  before  we  tread  again  the  same  walks, 
or  wander  through  the  same  grounds,  or  seat  ourselves  in 
old  familiar  spots ;  and  the  shadow  of  indefinable  dread, 
dread  of  we  know  not  what,  steals  over  our  souls.  Who 
has  turned  away  from  home  without  pausing  to  look  back, 
to  re-take  upon  the  heart  the  tracery  of  the  place  in  all  its 
features  ?  Who  has  said  "  Farewell !"  to  one  really  loved 
without  looking  earnestly,  if  but  for  a  moment,  into  the 
dear  eyes,  as  if  the  soul  might  be  read  in  their  clear 
depths  ?  Who  that  has  stood  upon  the  vessel's  deck,  as. 
the  swift  winds  bore  it  away  from  the  shore,  looking  back 
to  see  a  loved  form  growing  fainter  every  moment,  and 
watching  the  fading  away  of  the  signals  which  are  thrown 
out  to  us  when  the  voice  can  no  longer  speak  what  the 
soul  longs  to  utter — who  has  not  felt  how  hard  it  is  to  say 
FAREWELL  ?  Who  can  say  what  may  happen  before  we 
meet  again  ?  O  Life !  what  sadness  there  is  in  thy  mu 
tations  !  Who  could  read  thy  heart-history  without  sink- 
in  o-  under  its  revelations  ?  Nothing  but  trust — trust  in  the 
constancy  of  those  we  love,  trust  in  the  unslumbering 

(262) 


DE  VANE.  263 

watchfulness  of  Him  who  careth  even  for  the  sparrow — 
can  comfort  us.  Are  ye  not  of  more  value  than  many 
sparrows  ? 

On  Saturday  morning,  De  Vane  called  at  Mr.  Spring 
field's,  to  take  leave  of  the  family.  Neither  that  gentleman 
nor  Esther  was  at  home,  but  Mrs.  Springfield  was.  De 
Vane  entered,  and  was  informed  by  her  that  Mr.  Spring 
field  had  gone  a  mile  or  two  into  the  country,  and  that 
Esther  was  passing  the  day  at  Leasowes. 

He  entered  into  conversation  with  Mrs.  Springfield  with 
his  accustomed  freedom.  His  respect,  his  affection  for  her 
— for  he  had  learned  to  regard  her  with  a  sentiment  which 
was  strong  enough  to  be  called  affection — always  made 
him  frank  with  her,  when  they  were  alone.  Her  fine,  cul 
tivated  mind,  and  the  refinement  and  gentleness  which 
gave  an  indescribable  charm  to  her  manners,  made  her  a 
most  agreeable  person  to  every  one,  but  especially  so  to  a 
young,  high-toned,  ardent  man,  who  could  say  to  her  much 
that  he  would  not  utter  to  one  less  qualified  to  comprehend 
and  to  sympathize  with  him. 

"And  you  leave  us  on  Monday,  Mr.  De  Vane?"  she 
said. 

"  On  Monday,  madam,  I  am  sorry  to  say.  I  have  been 
so  long  here,  that  I  have  learned  to  love  this  place,  and  I 
can  never  feel  at  home  anywhere  else." 

"  Perhaps,  when  you  re-visit  Virginia,"  she  said,  "  you 
may  find  all  your  early  attachments  revive." 

"  No,"  said  he,  "  that  is  impossible.  If  I  had  not  changed, 
it  might  be  so ;  the  impressions  made  upon  me  here  might 
give  way  to  impressions  which  objects  there  will  make. 
But  I  myself  am  changed.  I  came  here  young,  with  views, 
tastes,  and  habits  formed  in  the  midst  of  those  who  make 
their  own  world,  who  lead  a  life  so  artificial  as  to  unfit 
them  for  participating  in  the  tasks  of  real  life.  Here  I 
have  learned  to  look  upon  the  world  as  it  is ;  to  conipre- 


264  DE   VANE. 

hend  tliat  the  true  grandeur  of  life  does  not  consist  in  sur 
rendering  the  soul  to  the  frigid  conventionalisms  of  society, 
in  the  indulgence  of  exclusive  ideas,  but  in  the  manly  dis 
charge  of  the  great  duties  of  humanity.  Here  my  mind 
has  been  awakened.  My  view  of  the  world  is  as  much  en 
larged  as  if  the  mists  which  heretofore  allowed  me  to  see 
but*  a  small  part  of  the  landscape  had  been  swept  away, 
and  the  whole  wide  extent  of  hill  and  valley,  and  moun 
tain  and  plain,  sketched  before  me,  flooded  with  the  sun 
light.  I  shall  re-visit  Virginia,  but  I  shall  never  again  be 
the  person  I  was  when  I  took  leave  of  my  home  to  come  to 
this  place." 

He  spoke  with  great  animation.  He  had  risen  from  his 
seat,  and  unconsciously  elevated  himself  to  his  full  height. 
Mrs.  Springfield  smiled.  She  saw  with  the  highest  satis 
faction  this  irrepressible  exhibition  of  the  noble  nature  of 
the  young  patrician,  whose  soul  was  asserting  its  right  to 
sympathy  with  the  great  world,  and  contending  against 
the  restraints  with  which  ancestral  pride  would  bind  it. 

"  Still,  Mr.  De  Vane,"  she  said,  "  you  will  find,  upon 
your  return  to  the  home  of  your  youth,  so  much  to  interest 
you,  that  it  will  be  no  easy  task  to  tear  yourself  away 
from  it  once  more.  At  your  age,  we  are  ardent.  We  yield 
a  ready  sympathy  with  those  persons  whose  tastes  are 
agreeable  to  us,  and  who  are  actually  present.  The  im 
pressions  made  by  other  objects  begin  to  fade,  and  we, 
after  a  while,  almost  wonder  that  their  influence  over  us 
should  have  been  so  strong." 

"Ah  !  madam,"  said  De  Vane,  "you  judge  me  by  the 
commonplace  code  of  the  world.  I  have  no  right  to  com 
plain  of  it.  You  do  not  know  me.  But  my  own  conscious 
ness  vindicates  me  from  meriting  any  such  accusation." 

Mrs.  Springfield  saw  that  she  had  wounded  him,  and  she 
hastened  to  assure  him  that  she  did  not  rank  him  with  that 


DE   VANE.  265 

lio-ht  class  of  young  persons  who  change  with  the  skies 
under  which  they  pass. 

"  You  well  know,  Mr.  De  Vane,"  she  said,  "  my  estimate 
of  you.  But  you  are  about  to  undergo  an  ordeal  the  full 
severity  of  which  you  yourself  can  not  comprehend,  until 
you  find  yourself  in  the  midst  of  the  objects  which  will 
appeal  so  powerfully  to  your  affections,  your  tastes,  your 
ambition." 

"Pardon  me,  madam,"  said  De  Vane,  "I  comprehend 
all.  You  must  remember  that  my  aunt,  Mrs.  De  Vane, 
has  kept  me  well  informed  of  all  that  transpires  at  home. 
She  has  all  the  while  contributed  what  she  could  to 
strengthen  ny  early  tastes,  to  remind  me  of  the  claims  of 
my  family  v.pon  me,  and  to  maintain  over  me  the  influence 
of  caste.  I  recall  very  vividly  all  the  past.  I  have  never 
lost  the  vision  of  aristocratic  splendor  which  filled  my 
youthful  mind.  But  I  assure  you,  that  I  myself  have  un 
dergone  a  great  change.  The  great  world  has  been  revealed 
to  me,  and  I  can  never  unlearn  what  I  have  learned." 

"  Still,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield,  "  you  must  not  forget  that 
the  young  Abyssinian  Prince,  after  seeing  the  great  world 
as  you  have  done,  returned  to  his  happy  valley." 

"  True,"  said  De  Vane,  "  but  that  was  because  he  saw 
the  world  only  as  one  views  a  panorama.  He  took  no  part 
in  it.  It  was  not  the  actual,  the  living,  breathing  world 
that  he  saw,  but  a  succession  of  pictures.  The  world  that 
the  young  Prince  saw  was  but  little  more  than  an  exhibi 
tion  of  the  paintings  of  the  great  masters.  I  have  walked 
through  the  actual  world.  I  comprehend  it.  I  disdain  the 
idle,  luxurious  life  which  our  aristocracy  lead.  I  intend  to 
take  part  in  the  real  struggle  of  humanity,  and  strive  to 
help  forward  the  crowded  ranks  who,  like  pilgrims,  are 
seeking  some  happier  clime.  There  are  tasks  that  must  be 
done.  I  am  not  unambitious,  but  I  aspire  to  wear  honors 
won  by  own  exertions.  I  could  not  content  myself  to  sit 
12 


266 

down  and  enjoy   what  better  and  truer  men  even  than 
myself  had  achieved  for  me." 

Mrs.  Springfield  looked  at  him,  with  a  respect  and  admi 
ration  that  her  face  revealed,  without  replying  immediate 
ly  to  what  he  had  said. 

He  walked  across  the  floor,  and  stood  before  the  portrait 
of  Esther.  The  morning  light  touched  the  picture,  and  the 
canvas  glowed  with  life.  De  Vane  fixed  his  eyes  on  it, 
and  seemed  unconscious  of  the  presence  of  Mrs.  Springfield. 
He  stood  before  it  for  minutes,  absorbed,  motionless.  The 
peerless  beauty  of  Esther  seemed  to  hold  him  entranced. 
At  length  he  breathed  deeply,  turned  away  from  the 
picture,  and  resumed  his  seat  without  uttering  a  word. 

Mrs.  Springfield  spoke.  "  How  long  do  you  suppose, 
Mr.  De  Vane,  you  will  be  absent  from  us  ?" 

"  I  propose,"  said  he,  "  to  return  in  October.  I  shall 
acquaint  my  father  with  my  wish  to  make  my  residence 
in  this  place.  It  will  require  some  little  time  to  arrange 
my  affairs  in  Virginia;  but  so  soon  as  I  can  dispose  of 
them,  I  shall  return  here.  This  is  to  be  my  home." 

"  We  shall  be  very  happy  to  have  you  with  us,  Mr.  De 
Vane,"  she  replied.  "  You  know  our  appreciation  of  you." 

De  Vane  bowed.  After  some  further  conversation,  he 
rose  to  take  leave. 

"  Will  you  not  come  to  us  this  evening  ?"  asked  Mrs. 
Springfield. 

"  With  great  pleasure,  madam,"  he  replied.  "  My  friend, 
Mr.  Waring,  will  doubtless  accompany  me." 

"  We  shall  be  most  happy  to  see  you,"  said  Mrs.  Spring 
field. 

De  Vane  walked  away  from  the  house.  He  greatly  de 
sired  to  see  Esther  alone,  before  leaving  for  Virginia.  He 
had  no  well-defined  purpose  in  seeking  a  private  inter 
view,  but  still  he  was  unwilling  to  quit  the  place  without 
conversing  with  her  under  less  restraint  .than  he  must  be 


DE   VANE.  267 

subject  to  if  he  met  her  in  the  presence  of  others.  He 
directed  his  steps  to  Leasowes.  Entering  the  grounds,  he 
walked  directly  to  the  cottage.  Mrs.  Green  received  him. 
Esther  was  not  in,  but  Mrs.  Green  informed  him  that  die 
was  somewhere  in  the  grounds ;  that  she  had  taken  Mary 
Sinclair  with  her,  and  walked  out  some  half-hour  since. 
De  Vane  went  in  search  of  her.  He  turned  his  steps  to 
ward  the  fountain ;  and  as  he  approached  it,  he  saw  Esther 
and  little  Mary  seated  side  by  side.  Esther  instantly  rose 
to  meet  him. 

"Pardon  me,"  said  De  Vane,  "for trespassing  upon  you, 
Miss  Wordsworth.  You  know  that  I  leave  for  Virginia 
on  Monday,  and  I  could  not  tear  myself  away  without  once 
more  visiting  Leasowes.  The  place  has  become  very  dear 
tome."  * 

"  You  know,  Mr.  De  Vane,"  she  replied,  "  how  welcome 
you  are  here.  You  are  never  an  intruder." 

"Thanks,"  said  De  Vane.  "There  is  no  spot  in  the 
world  that  I  visit  with  so  much  pleasure." 

Esther  rewarded  him  with  her  brightest  smile.  She 
invited  him  to  be  seated.  "  N"o,"  said  he.  "  If  agreeable 
to  you,  let  us  walk  through  the  grounds.  It  will  be  some 
months  before  I  can  enjoy  that  privilege  again." 

Esther  took  Mary  by  the  hand,  and  they  turned  their 
steps  toward  the  cottage.  She  excused  herself  for  a  mo 
ment,  and  entering  the  house  with  the  little  girl,  she  pres 
ently  returned  alone,  with  her  hat,  and  a  light  shawl 
thrown  about  her  shoulders. 

"  Come,  Mr.  De  Vane,"  she  said,  "  let  us  see  what  im 
provements  Jacob  has  been  projecting  since  you  were 
here." 

They  turned  their  steps  toward  the  more  highly  culti 
vated  parts  of  the  grounds.  They  were  in  their  full  glory. 
Brilliant  flowers  grew  in  the  midst  of  the  beds.  The 
rarest  and  most  beautiful  shrubbery  fringed  the  walks, 


268  DE  VANE. 

and  the  highest  taste  was  displayed  in  the  arrangement  of 
the  grounds.  One  might  lose  himself  in  the  labyrinthine 
walks. 

"  Really,"  said  De  Yane,  "  this  place  is  enchanting.  It 
wants  only  statuary  to  make  it  perfect." 

"  It  has  occurred  to  me,"  said  Esther,  "  to  place  some 
few  statues  in  some  parts  of  the  grounds.  If  I  should  ever 
visit  Europe,  I  may  then  make  the  selections." 

"  Visit  Europe  you  certainly  will,"  said  De  Yane. 
"  With  your  tastes,  Miss  Wordsworth,  you  can  not  resist 
the  attractions  that  such  a  tour  offers." 

"  I  do  not  know,  Mr.  De  Yane,"  she  replied.  "  There  is 
so  much  to  bind  me  here,  that  I  can  not  hope  very  soon  to 
gratify  my  tastes." 

"You  wrong  yourself, Miss  Wordsworth,"  said'De  Yane. 
"  Your  life  must  not  be  passed  in  this  way." 

Esther  turned  upon  him  her  full  glance. 

"  Have  you  forgotten,  Mr.  De  Yane,  the  obligations  that 
rest  upon  me  ?" 

"  Oh  !  no,"  he  answered  ;  "  but  surely,  all  the  brightness 
of  your  life  is  not  to  be  obscured  in  this  spot,  beautiful  as 
it  is." 

"  I  have  no  fixed  plans  for  the  future,"  said  Esther ; 
"  none  beyond  the  simple  performance  of  duties  which  are 
too  sacred  to  be  neglected." 

"  You  will,  I  trust,  take  brighter  views  of  life,"  said  De 
Yane.  "  The  tasks  which  you  perform  here  are  beautiful ; 
and  I  should  be  uncandid  if  I  did  not  say,  that  my  admi 
ration  is  yielded  to  you  as  it  has  never  been  to  any  one, 
when  I  see  you  at  Leasowes.  Still,  I  should  be  very  sorry 
to  know  that  all  your  days  were  to  be  passed  here." 

He  turned  to  Esther  as  he  uttered  these  words,  and  his 
face  revealed  even  more  than  his  language  had  disclosed. 
He  fixed  his  ardent  gaze  upon  her,  as  if  his  soul  would 


DE  VANE.  269 

utter  its  emotions  in  a  glance,  while  the  lips  refused  to 
breathe  the  passion  which  fired  it. 

Esther  was  deeply  agitated.  This  frank  declaration  of 
his  admiration  for  her,  just  uttered  by  De  Vane,  startled 
her.  She  made  no  reply. 

"  Yes,  Miss  Wordsworth,"  he  continued,  "I  am  too  self 
ish  to  wish  to  see  you  always  engaged  as  you  now  are, 
beautiful  as  the  tasks  that  employ  you  must  be  acknow 
ledged  to  be  by  all  who  can  appreciate  the  high  qualities 
that  prompt  you  to  discharge  them.  I  am  too  selfish 
for  that.  I  would  appeal  to  you,  too,  in  behalf  of  the 
great  world.  You  must  help  to  make  that  brighter. 
You  must  walk  through  it,  that  other  eyes  may  see  you 
and  bless  you." 

"  I  thank  you,  Mr.  De  Vane,"  at  length  Esther  said,  "  for 
all  your  kindness.  Here  I  feel  that  I  am  safe.  These 
duties  have  been  enjoined  upon  me  in  a  Avay  that  renders 
it  impossible  to  disregard  them.  I  am  a  little  afraid  of 
the  great  world  of  which  you  speak." 

She  spoke  with  trembling  earnestness ;  and  as  she  ut 
tered  these  words,  she  looked  into  the  face  of  De  Vane, 
with  a  gentleness  so  perfect,  and  a  truthfulness  so  clear, 
that  he  felt  as  if  he  walked  by  the  side  of  a  being  who,  if 
not  celestial,  had  at  least  the  purity  of  those  whose  robes 
have  never  been  sullied  by  the  dust  of  the  world's 
crowded  ways. 

They  walked  on  for  some  moments  in  silence.  Their 
walk  conducted  toward  the  gate  that  opened  into  the 
town.  The  silence  was  at  length  broken  by  De  Vane. 

"  Miss  Wordsworth,"  he  said,  "  I  know  the  frankness  of 
your  nature.  I  am  about  to  speak  to  you  freely — as  freely 
as  I  am  at  liberty  to  do  at  this  moment.  As  you  know,  I 
am  just  now  about  to  re-visit  my  home — the  home  of  my 
youth — my  ancestral  home.  But  it  is  my  fixed  purpose 
to  return  here ;  and  if  I  can  secure  the  approval  of  my 


270  BE   VANE. 

father,  I  shall  make  this  my  residence.  Separated  from 
you  for  some  weeks  to  come,  as  I  must  be,  I  will  not  with 
hold  the  expression  of  my  great  regard  for  you.  A  purer 
friendship  never  warmed  the  heart  of  any  man  than  that 
which  I  cherish  for  you.  May  I  hope  that  you  will  not  re 
gard  me  with  entire  indifference,  and  that  you  will  permit 
me  to  call  you  my  friend  ?" 

Esther  colored  deeply.  She  hesitated  for  a  moment, 
and  then  said  with  a  steady  voice : 

"  Yes,  Mr.  De  Vane,  I  am  sincerely  your  friend.  I 
should  be  ungrateful  if  I  were  not  so." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  De  Vane.  "  There  is  surely  no  con 
sideration  that  can  entitle  me  to  your  gratitude,  Miss 
Wordsworth.  It  is  I  who  should  speak  of  gratitude. 
You  have  shed  a  brightness  over  my  life.  But  I  do  not 
like  the  word.  I  am  speaking  of  friendship.  I  should 
prize  your  friendship  unspeakably." 

"  I  have  already  said  to  you,  Mr.  De  Vane,"  said  Esther, 
"  that  I  am  your  friend.  For  yourself  and  Mr.  Waring,  I 
entertain  a  sentiment  that  certainly  deserves  the  name ; 
and  as  the  circle  of  my  friends  is  not  very  large,  I  prize 
those  who  belong  to  it." 

De  Vane  was  a  little  disappointed  in  this  reply.  He 
regarded  Waring  as  he  did  no  other  man  on  earth  ;  but  to 
hear  Miss  Wordsworth  associate  him  with  himself  in  one 
common  sentiment  of  friendship,  was  a  little  chilling  to 
him.  Still  he  could  not  complain  of  it ;  nor  could  he  make 
any  explanation.  He  had  not  spoken  of  love.  That  was 
quite  another  thing.  He  dared  not  speak  of  it.  He  well 
knew  the  settled  purpose  of  General  De  Vane  ;  his  aristo 
cratic  tastes,  his  ancestral  pride,  his  hopes  of  his  son,  his 
plans  of  life  for  him.  He  comprehended,  too,  Mrs.  De 
Vane's  tastes,  prejudices,  preferences,  pride,  and  ambition. 
All  this  rose  before  him  at  the  moment.  Could  he  disre 
gard  it  ?  Was  he  to  make  a  rash  declaration  of  love  to 


DE  VANE.  271 

a  young  girl  who  walked  by  his  side  in  her  maidenly 
purity,  belonging  to  a  class  so  widely  different  from  the 
aristocratic  circle  in  which  he  had  been  reared  ? 

The  surges  of  his  passion  swept  furiously  against  the 
restraints  that  he  placed  on  himself.  Like  the  North  Sea 
dashing  against  the  dykes  of  Holland,  his  passion  shook 
the  barriers  that  kept  it  back.  Would  the  wild  waves 
break  over  the  obstructions  ?  It  seemed  impossible  to 
shut  them  out.  De  Yane  burned  to  know  the  real  senti 
ments  of  Esther  respecting  him.  Did  she  love  him  ?  Or 
was  it  only  friendship  ?  What  would  he  give  to  resolve 
the  doubt !  There  stood  the  young  priestess,  glowing 
with  almost  unearthly  beauty.  Was  she  cold  ?  Or  did 
the  hidden  flame  of  passion  burn  in  the  deep  of  her  soul  ? 
They  had  reached  the  gate.  Unconsciously  they  both 
stood,  and  they  were  silent. 

De  Vane  struggled  with  his  passion.  What  right  had 
he  to  ask  this  young  bright  being  who  stood  by  his  side 
to  speak  to  him  of  love  ?  Would  he  darken  her  woman's 
sky  ?  Would  he  humiliate  her  by  inviting  her  to  walk 
with  him  through  life,  when  she  must  encounter  the  scorn 
of  his  imperious  father,  the  reproaches  even  of  his  aunt  ? 
He  was  by  no  means  sure  of  the  state  of  Esther's  heart. 
She  might  regard  him  simply  as  a  friend.  He  could  not 
trifle  with  her.  He  had  too  much  principle  to  make  an 
experiment  of  such  a  nature  as  would  induce  her  to  reveal 
her  real  sentiments,  without  being  ready  to  bind  himself 
to  her,  if  she  were  willing,  by  an  indissoluble  engagement. 
His  own  pride,  his  lofty  sense  of  honor,  his  profound  re 
spect  for  Esther — all  made  it  impossible  that  he  should  ad 
vance  a  single  step  beyond  the  line  that  he  had  reached. 
The  struggle^  was  over.  PRINCIPLE  had  triumphed  over 
PASSIOX. 

"  I  thank  you,  Miss  Wordsworth,"  said  De  Yane,  "  for 
having  admitted  me  to  the  circle  of  your  friends.  I  shall 


272  DE   VANE. 

bear  with  me  to  Virginia  the  consciousness  that,  in  quit 
ting  these  happy  grounds,  I  leave  behind  me  one  who 
will  sometimes  recall  the  hours  that  we  have  passed 
together  in  these  walks." 

"  Yes,  Mr.  De  Vane,  you  may  rest  assured  that  I  am 
your  friend,"  said  Esther. 

"  And  when  I  return,  may  I  reenter  this  portal,"  said 
De  Vane,  "  confident  that  I  shall  still  find  a  friend  here  ?" 

"  You  need  not  doubt  it,"  said  Esther.  "  I  am  not  sub 
ject  to  change." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  De  Vane,  "  thank  you." 

They  passed  through  the  gate  into  the  great  world. 

In  the  evening,  De  Vane  and  Waring  walked  to  Mr. 
Springfield's.  They  were  expected. 

Every  thing  was  arranged  with  perfect  taste,  and  the 
rooms  wore  their  most  cheerful  aspect.  Mrs.  Springfield, 
with  womanly  tact,  sought  to  surround  De  Vane,  on  this 
last  evening,  with  bright  objects — objects  that  he  would 
recall  with  pleasure  after  his  departure.  Flowers,  fruits, 
and  the  innumerable  pleasing  things  that  belong  to  such  a 
household,  were  in  profusion.  The  supper  was  an  abound 
ing  one. 

After  it  was  ended,  all  assembled  in  the  library,  and 
engaged  in  cheerful  conversation. 

"So,  Mr.  De  Vane,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "you  will 
leave  us.  We  shall  regret  your  absence,  and  hope  that 
you  will  return  to  us  as  early  as  possible." 

"  You  may  rest  assured  of  that,  sir,"  said  De  Vane. 
"  The  journey  will,  of  course,  consume  some  time  ;  and  as 
I  intend  to  fix  my  residence  here,  it  will  require  some 
weeks  to  put  my  affairs  in  Virginia  in  such  a  condition 
that  I  may  leave  them." 

"  It  is  quite  settled,  then,  is  it,"  asked  Mr.  Springfield, 
"  that  you  will  make  this  your  future  home  ?" 

"  So  far  as  I  can  settle  it,"  said  De  Vane,  "  the  question 


DE   VANE.  273 

is  disposed  of.  I  anticipate  great  opposition  to  my  plan 
on  the  part  of  my  father.  He  is  very  decided,  I  may  say 
inflexible,  upon  most  subjects  ;  but  I  do  not  despair  of  be 
ing  able. to  obtain  his  consent  that  I  may  fix  my  residence 
here.  I  hold  that  questions  of  that  kind  are  to  be  dispos 
ed  of  by  every  one  for  himself.  They  concern  our  happi 
ness  too  much  to  suffer  us  to  submit  them  to  the  decision 
of  others." 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you,"  said  Mr.  Springfield.  "  I 
think  that  all  such  matters  are  to  be  decided  by  one's  self. 
In  the  light  of  all  the  surroundings,  certainly  the  wishes 
of  friends  are  not  to  be  disregarded  ;  but  after  all,  we  can 
only  determine  for  ourselves  what  will  be  agreeable  to  us." 

"  So  I  think,"  said  Waring.  "  I  would  not  live  in  a  pal 
ace  on  compulsion.  It  would  be  but  a  splendid  prison." 

"  So  say  I,"  said  De  Yane.  "  Splendor  is  nothing  with 
out  liberty.  And  with  my  views  of  life,  to  compel  me  to 
sit  down  upon  a  plantation  in  Virginia  and  see  my  slaves 
toil  for  my  benefit,  adding  year  after  year  to  the  increase 
of  an  estate  already  too  large,  would  be  intolerable.  They 
write  to  me  about  the  glories  of  such  an  existence ;  they 
describe  in  glowing  terms  the  society,  made  up  of  the  best 
blood  of  the  country,  of  the  sports  which  are  introduced 
to  break  the  monotony  of  country  life ;  but  really  they 
have  failed  to  awaken  in  me  any  desire  to  lead  such  a  life." 

"  It  must  be  admitted,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  that  such 
an  existence  seems  to  ignore  the  higher  objects  of  our 
being." 

"  Not  only  so,"  said  Waring,  "  but  I  should  die  from 
ennui" 

"  Yes,"  said  De  Yane,  "  I  firmly  believe  that  some  de 
gree  of  labor  is  essential  to  happiness.  For  my  own  part, 
my  mind  is  quite  made  up  to  make  my  own  living.  I  in 
tend  to  labor ;  to  have  the  honest  consciousness,  when  I 
see  the  sun  descending  behind  the  western  sky,  that  I  have 
12* 


274  DE   VANE. 

contributed  by  my  own  exertions  to  pay  my  own  way  in 
the  world.  In  no  other  way  could  I  feel  that  I  was  a 
man." 

All  smiled  at  the  energy  with  which  De  Vane  uttered 
these  words. 

"  What  will  General  De  Vane  say  to  all  that  ?"  asked 
Waring.  • 

u  Of  course  he  will  object,"  said  De  Vane.  "  But  I  have 
one  appeal  to  make  to  him — I  shall  lay  before  him  my 
views,  my  plans,  my  sentiments,  my  hopes,  my  principles. 
For,  after  all,  with  me  this  is  a  principle,  and  I  shall  re 
mind  him  that  he  chose  his  own  path  in  life ;  he  fixed  his 
residence  just  where  he  pleased.  Therefore,  I  may  well  ap 
peal  to  his  sense  of  right,  to  allow  me  to  do  the  same 
thing.  His  ancestral  pride  will  give  way  before  his  strong 
sense  of  right  and  his  manliness." 

"  I  certainly  hope  so,"  said  Waring.  "  We  shall  await 
the  result  of  your  visit  with  great  anxiety.  I  say  we,  for 
you  have  friends  here  beside  myself,  who  will  be  profound 
ly  interested  in  your  return." 

De  Vane  could  not  resist  the  impulse  which  prompted 
him  to  look  toward  Esther.  Her  face  was  glowing. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield ;  "  Mr.  De  Vane  well  knows 
that  he  has  friends  here,  and  I  trust  that  he  will  count  this 
household  among  the  number." 

"  A  thousand  thanks,  madam,  for  the  assurance,"  said 
De  Vane,  with  emotion.  "  I  shall  often  recall  this  spot  in 
my  travels,  and  whatever  I  may  meet  in  Virginia,  nothing 
can  efface  the  happy  memories  that  must  be  forever  asso 
ciated  with  it." 

The  evening  advanced.  De  Vane  did  not  ask  for  music. 
He  was  too  sad  to  wish  to  hear  it.  Esther  felt  a  great 
relief  at  being  spared  the  performance.  For,  though  she 
had  not  analyzed  her  heart,  she  was  conscious  of  an  inter 
est  in  De  Vane  too  deep  to  permit  her  to  associate  him 


DE   VANE.  275 

with  any  of  the  commonplace  things  of  life.  If  she  sang, 
her  emotion  would  be  too  visible.  Indeed,  to  ask  her  to 
do  so  would  be  like  calling  on  the  Jewish  maiden  to  take 
her  harp  from  the  willows,  and  strike  its  chords  with  joy 
ous  notes,  in  the  midst  of  her  exile. 

The  hour  for  leave-taking  came.  De  Vane  was  seated 
near  Mr.  Springfield.  He  rose  and  extended  his  hand  to 
that  gentleman,  thanking  him  for  all  his  kindness. 

"  I  am  indebted  to  you,  sir,  for  many  happy  hours,"  said 
he.  "I  promise  myself  a  long  enjoyment  of  such  scenes 
hereafter." 

"  God  bless  you,  sir  !"  said  Mr.  Springfield.  "  We  shall 
all  welcome  you  upon  your  return." 

De  Vane  turned  to  Mrs.  Springfield,  arid  said  :  "  To  you, 
madam,  I  do  not  know  how  to  express  my  thanks.  You 
have  done  so%much  for  me,  that  I  shall  always  regard  you 
as  associated  with  my  best  and  happiest  days.  Farewell, 
madam  !" 

Mrs.  Springfield  gave  him  her  hand,  and  said  :  "  Fare 
well,  Mr.  De  Vane.  .  Come  to  us  again  as  soon  as  pos 
sible." 

Esther  had  risen  from  her  seat.  She  stood  self-pos 
sessed,  and  yet  her  eyes  were  lit  with  all  the  ardor  of  her 
soul.  De  Vane  advanced  to  her,  took  her  hand,  stood  for 
a  moment  silent,  and  then  said  :  "  Miss  Wordsworth,  fare 
well  !"•  Esther  said  not  a  word. 

Waring  said  "  Good-night !"  to  the  group,  and  walked 
to  the  door.  De  Vane  turned  for  a  moment,  made  a  state 
ly  bow,  and  then  passed  out. 

The  door  closed  on  the  young  patrician  !  Shall  he  ever 
enter  it  again  ?  TIME  and  the  FUTURE  alone  can  reveal 
his  destiny  ! 


DE    VANE: 


PLEBEIANS  AND  PATRICIANS. 


BY 

HEISTRY  W.  HILLIABD, 


EX-MEMBER    OF    UNITED    STATES    HOUSE    OF    REPRESENTATIVES    FROM    ALABAMA. 


"The  rank  is  but  the  guinea's  stamp, 
The  man  's  the  gowd  for  a'  that." 


TWO  VOLUMES  IN  ONE.—  VOL.  II. 


BLELOCK  &  COMPANY,  19  BEEKMAN  STREET. 

1865. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1865,  by 
HENRY    W.     HILLIARD, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  for  the  Southern  District 
of  New-York. 


JOHN  A.  GRAY  &  GKKKN, 

Printers, 
16  &  18  Jacob  Street,  New-York. 


DE    VANE- 

Jl  Storjr  jrf 

PLEBEIANS  AND  PATRICIANS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

"  FAST  'silent  tears  were  flowing, 

When  something  stood  behind  I 
A  hand  was  on  my  shoulder — 
I  knew  its  touch  was  kind." 

RICHARD  MONCKTON  MILKES. 

THE  flying  post-horses  dashed  away  from  Mrs.  Bowen'a 
door — four  superb  blood  bays ;  and  the  driver's  French 
horn  poured  a  loud  and  cheerful  blast  upon  the  morning 
air.  The  coach  bore  De  Vane  away.  Five  other  passen 
gers  were  seated  with  him,  and  much  as  he  regretted  to 
quit  a  place  unspeakably  dear  to  him,  there  was  a  degree 
of  exhilaration  imparted  to  him  by  the  rapid  motion  of  the 
dashing  coach  and  four. 

Waving  his  hand  to  Waring,  he  was  gone.  Would  he 
return  ?  Would  he  withstand  the  appeals  of  his  aunt  ? 
Could  he  prevail  on  his  father  to  yield  to  his  wish  to  make 
his  home  in  that  Southern  town  ?  Or  would  he  feel  the 
rekindling  of  early  passion,  submit  himself  to  the  sway  of 

(279) 


280  DE  VANE. 

ambition,  and  remain  in  his  ancestral  home  ?  Who  could 
say  ?  Waring  was  sad,  for  he  was  very  strongly  attached 
to  his  young  friend.  He  saw  in  him  grand  qualities,  and 
capabilities  for  high  tasks. 

Esther  went  as  usual  to  Leasowes.  She  walked  slowly  ; 
but  she  did  not  stop  by  the  way.  Whatever  may  have 
been  her  emotions,  she  resolutely  walked  forward  to  her 
duties.  Assembling  about  her  the  little  girls,  she  read  to 
them  the  Scriptures,  and  then  kneeling,  read  one  of  those 
prayers  prepared  for  such  occasions  by  a  woman  eminent 
for  her  piety  and  her  learning.  All  the  morning  she  passed 
with  them,  directed  their  pursuits,  and  gave  them  some 
instructions  in  drawing.  Then,  joining  them  in  their  mid 
day  meal,  she  spoke  to  them  of  those  subjects  which  she 
knew  would  interest  them. 

Soon  after,  Mrs.  Springfield  called  for  her,  and  entering 
the  carriage,  they  drove  away.  At  Esther's  suggestion, 
they  visited  a  poor  family  in  the  sand-hills,  and  returning, 
called  at  Mrs.  Gildersleeve's.  Esther  requested  Mrs.  Spring 
field  to  leave  her  there,  saying  that  she  would  be  at  home 
by  evening  ;  and  her  aunt  drove  away,  comprehending  her 
feelings. 

When  Esther  came  in  the  evening,  she  was  very  calm, 
and  spoke  of  her  visit.  "  I  found  Mrs.  Gildersleeve,"  she 
said,  "  quite  cheerful.  She  is  beginning  to  take  an  interest 
in  the  things  that  engaged  her  formerly,  and  she  has  a 
niece  with  her,  just  arrived — a  nice  little  girl." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield.  "  She  has 
been  very  desolate  since  the  death  of  Eva." 

"  Oh  !  yes,"  said  Esther.  "  I  have  grieved  for  her.  She 
is  comfortable,  too,  and  finds  her  needlework  ample  for  her 
support." 

"  That  is  fortunate,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield.  "  Occupation 
is  essential  to  happiness,  and  Mrs.  Gildersleeve  is  too  proud 
to  accept  from  others  any  thing  beyond  what  she  needs." 


DE  VANE.  281 

"  I  thought  the  sand-hills  appeared  attractive  to-day," 
said  Esther.  "  Warm  as  the  weather  is,  the  clear  streams 
and  the  spreading  shade-trees  were  inviting.  I  think  we 
might  find  it  agreeable  to  pass  our  summers  there." 

"  Mr.  Springfield  thinks  of  it,"  she  replied ;  "  and  we 
must  select  a  pleasant  site,  if  he  should  decide  to  make  it 
a  summer  home." 

"  Let  it  be  in  a  valley,"  said  Esther,  "  by  a  clear  stream, 
and  not  on  a  hill.  I  do  not  admire  hills  for  residences.  And 
we  shall  then  be  able  to  command  the  comforts  that  are 
essential  to  a  country  home." 

Mr.  Springfield  came  in,  and  the  subject  was  further 
discussed. 

"  I  think,"  said  he,  "  that  I  might  prefer  to  build  on  the 
other  side  of  the  river,  some  twelve  miles  from  the  town. 
There  we  should  find  the  finest  water,  extraordinary  facil 
ities  for  bathing,  the  purest  air,  and  good  society." 

"  Is  it  not  too  far  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Springfield. 

"  Oh  !  no,"  he  said.  "  We  should  furnish  our  summer 
house,  and  go  to  it ;  and  return  whenever  we  found  it 
agreeable." 

It  was  decided  that  they  should  at  some  time  visit  the 
place,  and  see  what  it  offered  in  the  way  of  advantages  for 
a  summer  residence. 

So  far,  the  name  of  De  Vane  had  not  been  uttered  by 
any  one  of  the  family.  Mrs.  Springfield  forbore  to  do  so, 
from  consideration  for  Esther ;  and  yet  she  did  not  doubt 
that,  while  the  conversation  turned  upon  other  subjects, 
the  thought  that  filled  the  heart  of  her  niece  was  in  some 
way  associated  with  him. 

The  sun  had  gone  down,,  and  the  still  twilight  had  suc 
ceeded — twilight,  that  brings  with  it  so  many  memories. 
How  full  of  self-searching  is  that  space  which  divides 
day  from  night — neither  day  nor  night ;  shadowy,  quiet, 
dreamy  ;  too  late  to  carry  on  the  business  of  the  day,  too 


282  DE  VANE. 

early  to  kindle  the  lights  for  the  night !  In  the  town,  the 
noise  of  business  lulls,  and  occasional  sounds  only  are  heard, 
the  roll  of  wheels  at  intervals,  or  the  tread  of  passers-by 
on  the  sidewalk  seeking  their  homes  ;  in  the  country,  the 
buzz  of  insects,  the  lowing  of  cattle,  the  song  of  the  herds 
man.  Even  from  the  days  of  the  patriarchs,  the  hour  has 
invited  to  repose.  Isaac  went  out  to  meditate  in  the  field 
at  the  eventide. 

Esther  retired  to  her  own  chamber.  The  blinds  were 
open,  the  serene  summer  sky  was  spread  out  before  her — 
the  sky  which  she  had  often  looked  up  to,  standing  by  the 
side  of  De  Vane.  There  was  the  opal  hue  which  he  so 
much  admired,  and  burning  in  the  midst  of  it  was  the 
evening-star,  lustrous,  as  if  just  kindled  for  the  first  time 
in  the  firmament  by  some  celestial  messenger,  as  the  pro 
mise  of  some  new  advent  of  love  to  a  sin-stricken  world. 
Esther  gazed  upon  it  in  deep  musing.  She  felt  very  lonely, 
and  for  the  first  time  since  De  Vane's  departure  tears  stole 
into  her  eyes,  and  soon  she  wept  as  if  the  very  fountains 
of  her  nature  were  broken  up.  Never  before  had  she  wept 
in  this  way.  She  bowed  her  head  upon  the  bed,  and  poured 
out  her  soul.  Presently  she  started  ;  a  hand  was  laid  upon 
her  shoulder,  and  looking  up,  she  saw  Mrs.  Springfield. 
Her  aunt  took  a  chair  near  her.  Esther  laid  her  head 
in  her  lap,  like  a  little  child,  and  wept  without  restraint. 

Mrs.  Springfield  said  nothing  for  some  time.  Her  own 
tears  came  to  her  eyes,  but  she  checked  them.  At  length 
Esther  became  more  tranquil,  and  Mrs.  Springfield  said  to 
her : 

"  My  child,  may  I  not  know  what  makes  you  unhappy  ?" 

For  some  moments  Esther  made  no  reply.  She  then 
threw  her  arms  around  Mrs.  Springfield's  neck,  and  kissed 
her. 

"  Has  any  thing  been  said  to  you,  Esther,  to  make  you 
unhappy  ?" 


DE  VANE.  283 

"  Oh  !  no,  no  !"  she  replied.  "  Nothing,  nothing  ;  but  I 
felt  to-day  weary  and  sad,  and  I  could  not  restrain  my 
tears  when  this  quiet  hour  came  on." 

"  Esther,  my  own  child,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield,  "  are 
you  disappointed  ?  Is  your  heart  wounded  ?" 

She  rallied  instantly.  The  very  thought  that  any  one, 
even  her  aunt,  should  suppose  that  she  had  been  disappoint 
ed  in  her  hopes,  roused  her.  The  thought  that  any  one 
should  suppose,  even  for  a  moment,  that  De  Vane  was 
capable  of  wounding  her,  appealed  to  her  spirit  in  a  way 
that  made  it  impossible  she  could  weep  any  longer. 

"  No,  aunt,"  she  said,  "  neither  disappointed  nor  wound 
ed.  I  was  oppressed  with  a  sense  of  loneliness,  which  you 
will  easily  comprehend." 

"  I  do  comprehend  it,  my  child,"  she  said.  "  But  I  can 
not  express  my  admiration  of  the  nobleness  of  Mr.  De  Yane 
in  returning  to  Virginia  as  he  has  done,  under  a  sense  of 
duty  which  alone  could  take  him  away.  I  comprehend  his 
feelings  too,  for  I  saw  him  when  you  did  not,  under  cir 
cumstances  which  revealed  his  heart  quite  as  plainly  as  if 
he  had  told  me  all  he  felt," 

Mrs.  Springfield  then  related  to  Esther  what  had  taken 
place  when  De  Vane  called  on  Saturday  morning.  His 
emphatic  statement  of  his  purpose  to  return  to  the  town  in 
October  and  fix  his  residence  there,  his  earnest  utterance 
of  his  views  of  life,  and  his  standing  in  fixed  and  uncon 
scious  gaze  upon  her  portrait.  Esther  felt  the  light  of 
morning  already  spreading  over  her  soul,  and  once  more 
embracing  her  aunt,  she  kissed  her  tenderly. 

Mrs.  Springfield  had  acted  with  as  much  tact  as  delica 
cy.  She  saw  Esther's  depression.  She  well  knew  why 
she  sought  solitude  as  the  evening  came  on,  and  she  wished 
to  assure  her  of  her  sympathy,  without  wounding  her  sjen- 
sibility,  or  drawing  from  her  any  disclosures  which  she 
might  not  freely  wish  to  make.  She  knew  that  she  could 


284  DE  VANE. 

trust  every  thing  to  Esther,  but  she  knew  too  what  a  re 
lief  it  would  be  to  her  to  know  that  in  herself  she  had  not 
only  a  friend  who  would  counsel  in  the  aifairs  of  every-day 
life,  but  who  could  sympathize  with  those  emotions  which 
are  of  far  higher  moment  with  all  properly-organized  na 
tures  than  any  or  all  of  those  things  which  the  world  calls 
real. 

Mrs.  Springfield  left  her  alone  and  descended  to  the 
library,  where  Esther  joined  her  before  a  great  while, 
without  any  visible  traces  of  the  recent  tears.  Waring 
came  in,  and  was  warmly  welcomed.  All  were  pleased  to  see 
him,  and  with  that  subtle  perception  of  proprieties  which 
belongs  to  fine  natures,  he  exerted  himself  to  be  cheerful, 
and  to  make  others  so.  Without  any  false  delicacy,  he 
went  directly  to  the  subject  which  he  knew  really  was  the 
one  of  interest  with  his  friends. 

"  Well,  Mrs.  Springfield,"  he  said,  "  I  am  deserted  and 
desolate  ;  my  Fidus  Achates  has  gone." 

"  Really  gone  !"  said  Mrs.  Springfield.  "  We  shall  all 
sympathize  with  you,  for  we  found  his  society  very  agree 
able." 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  I  became  very  strongly 
attached  to  Mr.  De  Vane  ;  his  fine  mind  and  noble  nature 
refreshed  me.  Do  you  suppose  that  he  will  carry  out  his 
purpose  and  made  this  his  residence  ?" 

"  It  is  his  purpose,  undoubtedly,  to  do  so,"  said  Waring. 
"  He  is  perfectly  settled  in  it,  and  his  firmness  is  great  when 
he  once  takes  a  position.  There  is  so  much  of  the  heroic 
in  him,  that  resistance  only  rouses  his  strength.  But  he  is 
about  to  pass  through  a  very  severe  ordeal.  Returning  to 
the  home  of  his  youth,  early  impressions  may  be  revivified. 
The  slumbering  pride  of  ancestral  state  and  consideration 
may  be  awakened,  and  the  sense  of  duty  which  is  so  pow 
erful  in  him  may  bring  him  to  yield  his  Avishes  to  those  of 
General  De  Vane.  Still,  his  wishes  are  so  strong,  his  attach- 


DE  VANE.  285 

ment  to  this  place  so  deep,  and  his  love  of  independence  so 
uncompromising,  that  I  have  great  hope  of  his  coming 
back  to  us." 

"  General  De  Vane,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  is,  I  have 
learned,  extreme  in  his  aristocratic  tastes  and  opinions. 
Perhaps  few,  even  in  Virginia,  carry  them  so  far,  and  I  can 
hardly  suppose  that  he  will  consent  for  his  son  to  leave 
him,  and  especially  to  come  here  and  enter  upon  a  labori 
ous  profession." 

"  Yes,"  said  Waring,  "  it  is  very  much  to  be  feared 
that  he  will  never  give  his  consent  to  that.  He  is  very 
wealthy,  and  there  is  no  necessity  for  any  exertion  on  the 
part  of  his  son ;  but  he  will  never  induce  George  De  Vane 
to  lead  the  life  of  an  idle  man.  A  more  powerful  organ 
ization  for  working  I  never  saw.  I  mean,  I  never  knew  any 
man  whose  taste  for  occupation  was  stronger,  or  whose 
scorn  for  indolence  was  more  intense.  No  wealth  could 
tempt  him  to  drift  through  life,  and  his  love  of  his  race 
is  such,  that  a  stiff,  formal  social  system  can  never  hold 
him.  We  feel  his  absence,  and  yet  I'll  venture  to  say  that 
there  are  some  two  or  three  laboring  men  in  the  town  who 
fancy  that  no  one  can  regret  him  as  they  do — Hobbs,  for 
instance,  the  blacksmith.  I  think  it  quite  likely  that  tears 
may  have  washed  away  some  of  the  coal-dust  from  his  face 
when  De  Vane  bade  him  good-by,  for  he  did  call  at  his 
shop  to  shake  hands  with  him  on  Saturday." 

"  He's  a  noble  fellow,"  said  Mr.  Springfield. 

"  I  trust  that  he  will  become  a  Christian,"  said  Mrs. 
Springfield.  "  A  large  heart  like  his  woulcj  be  very  happy 
if  full  of  love  to  the  Lord,  who  gave  his  own  life  for  him." 

"  I  regret,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  that  he  is  skeptical." 

"  He  can  not  be  said  to  be  so,"  said  Waring,  "  in  the 
common  acceptation  of  that  word.  He  is  full  of  doubt,  but 
his  earnest  nature  illumines  the  very  clouds  which  surround 


286  DE  VANE. 

him,  and  he  is  too  warm  to  content  himself  with  the  frigid 
rationalism  which  satisfies  some  minds." 

"  I  rejoice  to  hear  you  say  so,"  said  Mr.  Springfield. 

"  I  regret,"  said  Waring,  "  more  than  I  can  express,  that 
De  Vane  is  not  a  Christian.  He  is  just  now  bewildered 
with  the  mists  of  neology.  The  Germans,  by  their  lumin 
ous  vapors,  have  involved  him,  but  his  strong,  earnest  na 
ture  will  make  its  way  out  of  them.  I  love  him  so  much, 
that,  while  I  can  not  claim  him  as  a  believer,  I  do  claim 
him  as  a  disciple  of  the  principles  of  Christianity.  He  re 
minds  me  of  Abou  Ben  Abheni  in  the  exquisite  poem  of 
Leigh  Hunt. 

"  I  have  not  seen  it,"  said  Mr.  Springfield. 

"  Do  repeat  the  lines  for  us,  Mr.  Waring,"  said  Mrs. 
Springfield. 

Esther  had  said  nothing,  but  her  eyes  were  fixed  on 
Waring,  as  her  aunt  made  the  request,  with  eager  interest. 
He  observed  it,  and  looking  at  her,  uttered  the  lines  : 

"  ABOU  BEN  ADHEM  (may  his  tribe  increase  !) 
Awoke  one  night  from  a  deep  dream  of  peace, 
And  saw,  within  the  moonlight  in  his  room, 
Making  it  rich,  and  like  a  lily  in  bloom, 
An  angel  writing  in  a  book  of  gold. 
Exceeding  peace  had  made  Ben  Adhem  bold, 
And  to  the  presence  in  the  room  he  said  : 

'  What  writest  thou  ?'     The  vision  raised  its  head, 
And  with  a  look  made  of  all  sweet  accord, 
Answered  :  '  The  names  of  those  who  love  the  Lord.' 

'  And  is  mine  one  ?'  said  Abou.     '  Nay,  not  so,' 
Replied  the  angel.     Abou  spoke  more  low, 
But  cheerly  still,  and  said  :  '  I  pray  thee,  then, 
Write  me  as  one  that  loves  his  fellow-men.' 
The  angel  wrote,  and  vanished.     The  next  night 
It  came  again,  with  a  great  wakening  light, 
And  showed  the  names  whom  love  of  God  had  blessed, 
And  lo  !  Ben  Adhem's  name  led  all  the  rest." 


DE   VANE. 


237 


"  It  is  exquisite  !"   exclaimed  Esther. 

"  Perfectly  beautiful !"  said  Mrs.  Springfield.  "  We  are 
obliged  to  you  for  making  us  acquainted  with  it." 

"  And  for  giving  us  such  hope  of  our  young  friend  Mr. 
De  Vane,"  said  Mr.  Springfield. 

"  It  reminds  me,"  said  Esther,  "  of  our  discussion  as  to 
the  comparative  merits  of  poetry  and  the  arts.  If  Mr. 
De  Vane  were  here,  I  think  he  would  insist  that  the  poem 
which  you  have  just  repeated  does  much  toward  estab 
lishing  his  proposition  in  favor  of  the  power  of  poetical 
description." 

-  Waring  smiled.     "  I  had  no  idea,"  said  he,  "  that  I  was 
furnishing  an  argument  against  myself." 

"  But  you  must  admit,"  said  Esther,  "  that  it  is  a  pow 
erful  one.  Could  any  painting,  or  piece  of  sculpture,  teach 
the  beautiful  lesson  which  the  poem  does,  so  exquisitely 
and  so  briefly  ?" 

"  I  shall  decline  all  argument  upon  that  point,"  said 
Waring,  "  until  I  can  bring  in  my  allies,  Miss  Godolphin 
and  Mr.  Clarendon." 

"  That  is  yielding  the  field,"  said  Esther,  "  for  I  am  all 
alone ;  at  least,  the  only  ally  who  was  with  me  in  our 
late  contest  is  absent." 

"  I  shall  report  to  him,"  said  Waring,  "  in  my  first  letter, 
how  gallantly  you  maintained  the  position." 

"  And  do  give  him  our  best  wishes,"  said  Mr.  Spring 
field. 

"  And  assure  him  of  our  regrets  at  his  absence,"  said 
Mrs.  Springfield. 

"  I  shall  make  him  very  happy  in  doing  so,"  said  War 
ing. 

"  Have  you  seen  Miss  Godolphin  very  lately  ?"  asked 
Esther. 

"  Not  since  I  met  her  here,"  said  Waring.  "  I  think 
that  Mrs.  liabersham  is  about  to  go  to  her  place  in  the 
country." 


288  DE  VANE. 

"  Some  four  miles  from  town,"  said  Mr.  Springfield. 
"  It  is  a  place  of  great  beauty,  and  I  do  not  wonder  at 
their  retreating  to  it,  though  the  health  of  the  town  is 
excellent." 

"  I  have  never  seen  it,"  said  Waring. 

"  But  you  will  visit  it  now,  of  course,"  said  Mrs.  Spring 
field,  playfully. 

"  I  shall  be  so  much  engaged  with  books,"  said  Waring 
pleasantly,  "  that  I  shall  have  but  little  leisure  for  the 
ladies.  Still,  if  Miss  Wordsworth  will  accompany  me,  I 
shall  be  ready  to  visit  so  interesting  a  person  as  Miss 
Godolphin." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Esther,  "  I  could  not  refuse  to  con 
tribute  to  your  happiness  in  that  way.  When  shall  we 
go?" 

"  I  must  first  ascertain,"  said  Waring,  "  if  they  have 
gone." 

"And,  of  course,  in  pursuing  so  important  an  inquiry, 
you  will  not  intrust  any  thing  to  an  agent,  but  will  call 
in  person.  Otherwise  I  should  offer  to  look  into  the  affair 
myself." 

"  Do,  Miss  Wordsworth,"  said  Waring,  "  and  then  ar 
range  the  time  of  our  excursion,  and  I  shall  feel  quite 
obliged." 

"  Very  good,"  said  Esther.  "  I  am  very  prompt,  and 
will  call  to-morrow  morning." 

"  Thanks,"  said  Waring. 

"  She  is,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  a  person  of  extraordi 
nary  attractions,  and  I  do  not  wonder,  Mr.  Waring,  that 
you  should  wish  to  visit  her.  I  find  her  really  fascinating. 
When  she  was  with  us,  a  few  evenings  since,  she  displayed 
wonderful  resources." 

"  She  is  a  superior  person,"  said  Waring,  "  in  every  way. 
Her  intellect,  her  character,  her  accomplishments,  and  her 
beauty,  are  all  of  rare  perfection.  She  is,  too,  so  earnest, 


DE  VANE.  239 

that  it  is  impossible  not  to  feel  an  interest  in  her.  I  can 
not  feel  any  thing  like  a  deep  interest  in  any  one  who 
lacks  depth  of  character.  Miss  Godolphin  has  it." 

"  She  has,"  said  Esther.  "  Her  nature  is  a  very  earnest 
one,  and  I  find  myself  powerfully  attracted  by  her.  We 
must  visit  her,  Mr.  Waring." 

"  I  shall  always  be  at  your  service,"  he  said  ;  "  and  when 
she  returns  to  town,  in  October,  we  can  arrange  a  plan  for 
seeing  her  often." 

The  mention  of  October  seemed  to  give  general  satisfac 
tion. 

"  How  refreshing  it  is,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield,  "  to  look 
forward  to  the  fall !  It  is  to  me  the  most  agreeable  of  the 
seasons." 

"  Oh  !  incomparably  so,"  said  Esther.  "  I  love  autumn, 
and  hail  it  as  the  crowning  glory  of  the  year." 

"  I  must  express  my  preference  for  spring,"  said  Mr. 
Springfield. 

"  Spring,"  said  Waring,  "  is  beautiful,  full  of  delights, 
and  rich  in  promise  ;  but  I  must  agree  with  Miss  Words 
worth  in  her  preference  for  autumn." 

"  I  enjoy  spring,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield,  "  from  sympa 
thy  with  my  husband's  tastes.  I  have  often  seen  him  re 
joice  in  the  opening  spring  with  the  gladness  of  a  boy." 

"I  do  love  its  promise,  and  catch  the  joy  with  which  it 
fills  all  nature,  animate  and  unconscious  nature,"  said  Mr. 
Springfield. 

"  But,"  said  Esther,  "  the  autumn  brings  the  matured 
promise ;  the  ripened  fruits,  the  waving  harvests,  and 
many-colored  leaves,  which  give  such  a  mellow  beauty  to 
the  aspect  of  nature.  Then  one  feels  a  languor  in  spring  ; 
but  in  autumn  the  air  invigorates,  and  the  bright,  frosty 
mornings,  when  the  crisp  leaves  crackle  under  your  feet, 
impart  an  elasticity  to  your  spirits,  which  is  never  ex 
perienced  at  any  other  season." 
13 


290  DE  VANE. 

"  And  does  not  the  decay  of  nature  sadden  you  ?"  said 
Mr.  Springfield. 

"  At  times  one  does  feel,  when  looking  upon  the  falling 
leaves,  and  hearing  the  solemn  winds  breathing  through 
the  ever-green  pines,  a  touch  of  melancholy  sympathy 
with  nature ;  but  there  are  so  many  autumnal  glories  that 
you  forget  the  sadness,  and  wrap  yourself  up  gladly  to 
walk  out  under  the  sparkling  stars,  which  seem  to  grow 
brighter  in  the  cool  air.  Then,  too,  enjoying  the  ripened 
fruits,  and  seeing  gathered  harvests,  and  drawing  near  the 
early  fires,  you  anticipate  the  magnificence  of  winter." 

"  Now,  Mr.  Springfield,"  said  Waring,  "  Miss  Words 
worth  sings  the  glories  of  autumn  in  a  way  to  make  one 
enjoy  it.  It  is,  I  am  happy  to  know,  not  a  great  way  off, 
and  we  shall  expect  to  see  her  grow  very  bright  when  her 
favorite  season  revisits  us." 

Esther  looked  up  at  him  quickly,  but  she  could  detect 
no  mischief  in  his  composed  features,  and  she  said :  "  I 
hope  we  shall  all  be  bright  and  happy." 

"  Poets,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  sing  the  glories  of  the 
varying  year.  But  Esther,  I  believe,  is  consistent ;  she  has 
from  her  childhood,  by  a  sort  of  perverseness  it  may  be, 
rejoiced  in  the  fall  of  the  year." 

"  Ever  since  I  saw  the  first  crimson  leaf  from  a  sweet 
green  tree,  in  the  early  autumn,  and  the  red  dogwood 
berries  sprinkled  with  frost,"  she  said. 

"  When  are  we  to  take  our  equestrian  excursions,"  said 
Waring,  "  which  we  arranged  some  little  time  since  ?" 

"  Oh  !  I  must  look  after  that  to-morrow,  when  I  see  Miss 
Godolphin,"  said  Esther.  "  She  is  said  to  ride  superbly." 

"  If  she  can  excel  you,  Esther,"  said  Mr.  Springfield, 
"  she  must  indeed  be  accomplished.  Do  you  know,  Mr. 
Waring,  that  last  summer  she  dashed  away  from  me  in 
that  wild  mountain  region  of  Virginia,  and  defied  me  to 
follow  her?  I  actually  found  it  at  times  difficult  to  keep 
the  saddle." 


DE   VANE.  291 

"  I  did  not  know  she  was  so  wild,"  said  Waring.  "  Who 
would  have  supposed  it  ?" 

"  Get  her  over  into  the  country,"  said  Mr.  Springfield, 
"  and  she  becomes  transformed." 

"  I  fear,"  said  Esther,  "  that  you  will  frighten  Mr.  War 
ing,  and  that  he  will  refuse  to  accompany  me." 

"  I  only  wish  to  put  him  on  his  guard,"  said  Mr.  Spring 
field,  "  so  that  he  may  be  sure  of  his  horse,  and  tighten 
his  girths." 

"  I  am  a  good  horseman,"  said  Waring,  "  and  I  shall 
prepare  myself.  There  are  some  hedges  in  the  neighbor 
hood,  and  any  number  of  rail  fences." 

"  My  horse,"  said  Esther,  "  has  not  yet  arrived.  •  He  is 
at  the  plantation,  enjoying  otium  cum  dignitate,  literally. 
No  human  being  is  allowed  to  use  him  except  my  own 
servant,  who  has  charge  of  him.  I  must  have  him  sent 
to  me." 

"  And  is  he  active  and  fleet  ?"  asked  Waring. 

"  Both,"  said  Esther,  "  or  I  should  not  have  named  him 
Manfred." 

"  I  must  provide  myself,  then,  with  his  equal ;  for  I  do 
not  intend  to  be  outridden  by  any  young  lady  in  all  the 
State." 

"  Until  Manfred  arrives,  nay  uncle  will,  I  am  sure,  let 
me  have  his  horse." 

"  Oh  !  yes,  my  dear  Esther,  with  pleasure,  provided  you 
reserve  your  dashing  adventures  until  Manfred  does  arrive. 
I  am  suited  in  a  saddle-horse.  He  never  stumbles,  and 
never  shies,  and  he  is  about  the  only  horse  I  know  that  is 
free  from  those  faults  ;  so  that  I  can  not  afford  to  have 
him  impaled  on  a  rail,  or  blown  by  a  four  hours'  ride." 

"  I  shall  treat  him  as  tenderly,"  said  Esther,  "  as  if  he 
were  an  Arabian." 

"  Like  Manfred,"  said  Mr.  Springfield ;  "  and  very  for 
tunate  it  is  for  him  that  he  has  good  "blood  in  him,  for  he 


292  DE  VANE. 

has  had  to  encounter  some  sore  trials,  to  flesh  and  blood 
both." 

"  I  shall  wait  on  you,  then,"  said  Waring,  "  very  soon, 
to  learn  the  result  of  your  interview  with  Miss  Godol- 
phin." 

"  Yes,"  said  Esther. 

Conversation  followed  upon  general  subjects,  and  after 
ward  Mr.  Springfield  and  Waring  interchanged  their 
views  upon  some  questions  affecting  the  Church :  a  ques 
tion  of  a  class  which  they  never  overlooked,  and  about 
which  they  uniformly  agreed,  sometimes  having  to  en 
counter  serious  opposition  from  other  official  members. 

Mrs.  Springfield  was  happy  to  see  that  Waring's  oppor 
tune  presence  had  cheered  Esther,  and  in  her  heart  she 
.thanked  him. 

When  he  took  his  leave,  the  house  was  a  brighter  one 
than  when  he  had  entered  it ;  and  he  bore  with  him  the 
love  and  confidence  of  those  who  knew  how  to  prize  his 
pure  and  generous  nature. 


CHAPTER    IL 

"WHAT!  may  it  be,  that  even  in  heavenly  place 
That  busy  Archer  his  sharp  arrows  tries  ? 
Sure,  if  that  long  with  love  acquainted  eyes 
Can  judge  of  love,  thou  feel'st  a  lover's  case  ; 
I  read  it  in  thy  looks,  thy  languished  grace." 

SIR  PHILIP  SIDNEY. 

IN  accordance  with  her  promise,  Esther  called  the  next 
day  at  Mrs.  Habersham's,  and  found  Miss  Godolphin  at 
home.  They  had  not  yet  removed  to  the  country,  but 
were  preparing  to  do  so;  Mrs.  Habershain  having  gone, 
when  Esther  called,  to  make  arrangements  for  their  com 
fortable  reception.  Miss  Godolphin  was  seated  in  a  small 
boudoir,  surrounded  by  needle-work  and  books ;  and  as, 
she  rose  to  receive  Esther,  she  said  : 

"  I  welcome  you  to  my  own  retreat,  where  I  work,  and 
play,  and  read,  and  write,  just  as  I  may  feel  inclined." 

"  It  is  a  charming  place,"  said  Esther ;  "  and  I  do  not 
wonder  that  you  pass  your  hours  here.  This  window 
gives  you  a  view  of  the  garden,  and  I  can  not  imagine  a 
more  cheerful  spot." 

"  See  this  crape-myrtle,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  rising 
and  putting  aside  the  rich  lace  curtain  that  draped  the 
sash.  "  Is  it  not  perfectly  beautiful  ?  The  color  of  the 
flower  is  perfect." 

"  It  is  indeed  beautiful !"  said  Esther.  "  And  the  rich 
deep  bloom  of  the  oleander  imparts  an  Oriental  aspect  to 
the  place.  How  can  you  give  it  up  ?" 

*  You  have  not  seen  our  country  place,"  she  said.  "  That 
(293) 


294  DE  VANE. 

is  a  wilderness  of  delights,  and  you  know  we  have  both 
avowed  our  preference  for  the  country." 

"  When  do  you  go  ?"  asked  Esther. 

"  Probably  on  Saturday,"  she  said.  "  My  aunt  is  to  de 
cide  to-day.  I  wish  that  you  would  accompany  us.  We 
should  be  delighted  to  have  you." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Esther.  "  I  shall  hope  to  see  you 
often,  but  I  could  not  at  this  time  be  absent  from  town." 

"  That  Leasowes  of  yours,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  is 
absolutely  engrossing.  The  place  is  perfectly  delightful — 
a  garden  of  the  Hesperides,  as  I  heard  Mr.  De  Vane  de 
scribe  it  in  conversation  one  evening.  But  you  must  be 
rescued  from  it,  and  given  to  the  great  world." 

"  I  find  it  a  charming  retreat,"  said  Esther,  "  from  the 
great  world ;  and  wThen  walking  through  its  sequestered 
paths,  feel  the  refreshing  influence  of  nature  upon  my  spir 
it.  Then  as  to  the  little  girls,  they  are  my  friends,  and  it 
sometimes  saddens  me  to  think  that  they  have  to  encoun 
ter  the  great  world." 

"  I  shall  certainly  exert  myself,"  said  Miss  Godolphin, 
"  to  have  you  drawn  away  from  it.  Leave  it  for  a  time  to 
good  Mrs.  Green — for  she  is  good.  I  called  there  some 
days  since  to  see  you.  You  were  not  there,  and  the  re 
freshing  coolness  of  the  spot  was  so  inviting,  that  when 
Mrs.  Green  asked  me  to  stay,  I  sat  with  her  for  at  least  an 
hour  in  the  little  end-gallery,  shaded  by  wild  orange-trees ; 
and  she  talked  to  me  in  such  a  way  about  this  world,  its 
trials  and  its  hopes,  and  the  Lord,  Avho,  in  his  goodness, 
was  training  us  for  a  better  world,  where  there  would  be 
peace,  and  where  no  partings  would  sadden  us,  nor  death 
enter  to  wound  us,  that  I  wept  like  one  of  your  little 
girls,  and  really  wished  that  I  could  rest  on  the  old  saint's 
lap,  as  I  did,  when  a  child,  upon  my  mother's." 

Esthers  eyes  filled  with  tears.  She  was  profoundly 
affected  by  the  picture  which  Miss  Godolphin  had  paint- 


DE  VANE.  295 

ed — this  bright,  prtfud,  splendid  creature,  listening  to  the 
happy  talk  of  Mrs.  Green,  in  her  natural  simple  way, 
about  Jesus  and  heaven,  until,  in  sympathy  with  the  faith 
and  hope  of  the  Christian  pilgrim,  she  had  wept  like  a 
child. 

"  Yes,"  said  Esther,  "  Mrs.  Green  is  really  good ;  and  I 
often  sit  with  her,  to  hear  her  speak  of  the  better  country." 

"  O  Miss  Wordsworth  !"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  I  envy 
you  your  faith  and  your  peace." 

"  My  dear  Miss  Godolphin,"  said  Esther,  "  they  may  be 
yours." 

Miss  Godolphin  fixed  her  large,  dark,  soul-lit  eyes  on 
Esther's  face,  and  said :  "  How  I  long  for  rest !  The  world 
is  so  shallow,  so  heartless,  so  unsatisfying !  I  have  seen 
it,  young  as  I  am,  in  its  glory ;  and  I  do  not  hate  it,  but  I 
am  sick  of  it.  Its  frivolous  pleasures,  its  silly  amuse 
ments,  its  soulless  rivalries — oh  !  how  I  despise  them  J" 

"  You  know,"  said  Esther,  "  that  there  is  One  who  has 
said :  '  My  peace  I  give  unto  you  ;  not  as  the  world  giveth, 
give  I  unto  you.'  r 

" How  beautiful !"  said  Miss  Godolphin.  '"Not  as  the 
world  giveth.'  We  all  know  how  hollow  that  is.  I  must 
study  those  words,  for  I  want  peace." 

Esther  was  deeply  affected.  The  appealing  face  of  Miss 
Godolphin,  over  whose  classical  features  the  shadow  of 
some  great  trouble  seemed  to  rest,  which,  while  it  did  not 
cloud  its  beauty,  touched  it  with  suffering  and  heightened 
its  power,  was  irresistible.  "  My  dear  Miss  Godolphin," 
she  said  gently,  "  will  you  suffer  me  to  try  to  guide  you 
to  the  feet  of  One  who  will  give  you  that  peace  ?  I  am 
very  weak  myself,  and  my  own  feet  want  strengthening  ; 
but  I  speak  only  what  I  know,  when  I  say  that  there  is 
peace  in  believing." 

"  Believing  !"  said  Miss  Godolphin.  "  Oh  !  that  I  could 
believe.  I  have  tried,  I  have  struggled.  In  Rome  I  was 


296  DE  VANE. 

accustomed  to  go  to  the  places  of  worship  where  I  wit 
nessed  all  that  was  most  impressive  in  the  form  of 
religion.  I  saw  and  heard,  and  was  impressed,  but  I 
could  not  believe.  The  music  transported  me.  I  rose 
to  the  highest  heavens  upon  its  ascending  melodies.  My 
imagination  was  lighted  up  by  all  the  glories  of  an 
invisible  world.  The  pomp  and  splendor  of  the  service 
bore  me  away,  and  I  floated  with  the  perfumed  incense 
into  the  very  courts  of  heaven.  The  Miserere  subdued 
me  and  filled  me  with  anguish.  I  felt  the  unutterable  sor 
row  that  breathed  in  its  deep  tones — tones  deeper  than  the 
sepulchre,  deeper  than  the  ocean,  deep  as  the  rayless  abode 
of  lost  spirits  ;  but  I  never  believed,  never  trusted,  never 
felt  true  penitence,  nor  was  my  soul  even  once  lighted  up 
with  hope — never  !" 

"  No,"  said  Esther,  "  that  is  not  the  place  to  find  peace. 
I  do  not  doubt  that  many  sincerely  worship  in  the  midst 
of  the  imposing  forms  which  you  describe  ;  but  your  na 
ture  seeks  the  simpler  forms  of  majestic  truth.  You  do 
not  need  that  any  ministry  to  the  senses  should  move  you. 
You  are  too  earnest  for  that.  It  can  not,  of  course,  instruct 
you ;  but  you  will  find  in  the  outlines  of  truth  all  that  is 
necessary  to  induce  you  to  explore  the  recesses  of  its  lofty 
temple.  The  simplest  aspects  of  nature  are  the  grandest. 
A  great  mountain  standing  out  against  the  sky,  fills  us 
with  awe,  while  a  wide-spread  landscape  of  variegated 
beauty  only  charms  us.  It  is  refreshing  to  me  to  read  the 
words  of  my  Lord  ;  to  think  of  him  as  standing,  not  in  the 
midst  of  the  temple,  glorious  as  it  was,  but  as  seated  upon 
the  mountain-side,  still  more  glorious,  or  standing  upon 
the  shore  of  the  sea,  or  walking  through  the  green  fields, 
teaching  his  disciples.  They  may  exclude  the  Lord  from 
their  temples,  but  they  can  not  shut  him  out  from  nature." 

"  And  do  you  read  the  teachings  of  the  Lord,  as  you  find 
them  in  the  Scriptures,  with  comfort  ?" 


DE   VANE.  297 

"  Unspeakable  comfort,"  said  Esther.  "  And  I  do  find 
in  the  word  of  inspired  truth  the  peace  which  the  world 
can  neither  give  nor  take  away." 

"  You  must  help  me,"  said  Miss  Godolphin.  "  Let  me 
be  with  you  as  much  as  possible — do  !" 

"  You  do  not  know  how  happy  it  will  make  me,"  said 
Esther,  "  to  be  with  you — to  seek  with  you  the  right  way. 
It  will  help  me,  I  am  sure." 

"  Since  I  heard  Bishop  McKendree,"  said  Miss  Godol 
phin,  "  I  have  been  longing  to  talk  with  some  one  on  this 
subject.  The  venerable  appearance  of  the  man  at  once 
impressed  me,  and  the  simple,  majestic  beauty  of  his  dis 
course  opened  to  my  view,  for  a  moment,  the  survey  of 
another  world.  I  did  so  much  desire  to  speak  with  him  ; 
but  not  knowing  you  as  I  do  now,  I  could  not  call." 

"  How  I  regret  that  I  did  not  know  your  wish  !"  said 
Esther.  "  He  was  with  us  for  some  days,  and  we  should 
have  been  very  happy  to  see  you." 

"  I  do  not  doubt  it,"  she  said  ;  "  but  it  is  so  rarely  that 
I  hear  one  who  affects  me  as  he  did,  that  I  lament  his  go 
ing  without  my  hearing  from  him  in  conversation  so  much 
that  I  wish  to  know.  With  you  I  can  speak  freely — I  can 
open  my  heart ;  you  can  fully  sympathize  with  me.  I  do 
feel  so  desolate — so  desolate  !" 

"  Often,"  said  Esther,  "  have  I  wished  to  speak  with 
you,  for  I  have  felt  the  deepest  interest  in  you ;  but  I 
feared  that  you  might  not  comprehend  me,  and  that  I 
should  offend  rather  than  help  you." 

"  Oh  !  no  ;  no  fear  of  that.  Why,  Miss  Wordsworth, 
if  you  knew  what  I  have  suffered,  what  a  dreary  world  I 
live  in,  you  would  comprehend  how  welcome  true  sympa 
thy  is.  My  aunt  is  every  thing  to  me  that  she  can  be. 
She  loves  me  as  she  loves  no  other  being ;  but  she  herself 
is  bewildered.  She  has  no  light  to  cheer  her  own  spirit ; 
13* 


298  DE   VANE. 

and  the  thought  of  death  fills  her  with  the  deepest  gloom. 
You  are  to  be  my  guide.  I  shall  cling  to  you." 

"  Oh  !  that  I  were  stronger  !"  said  Esther.  "  I  have  sat 
by  the  hour  and  listened  to  the  conversation  of  Mr.  Spring- 
iield  and  Mr.  Waring,  and  felt  an  eager  desire  that  the 
whole  world  could  have  the  truth  presented  just  as  they 
spoke  of  it.  Xo  argument,  no  display,  but  conversation  ; 
bringing  to  bear  upon  the  great  subject  the  largest  views, 
in  a  natural,  unstudied  way,  that  lighted  it  up  indescriba 
bly,  just  as  one  hears  other  subjects  spoken  of — the  arts, 
commerce,  politics,  the  events  of  life — without  a  tinge  of 
doubt  coloring  their  remarks,  or  the  lightest  fleecy  vail  of 
mist  clouding  their  vision." 

"  Delightful !"  exclaimed  Miss  Godolphin.  "  I  do  not 
wish  any  one  to  attempt  to  argue  me  into  believing.  It 
would  be  hopeless.  But  to  hear  Christians  speak  of  the 
things  which  belong  to  religion,  as  if  they  felt  them  to  be 
real,  has  always  had  a  great  charm  for  me.  I  love  that 
good  Mrs.  Green,  since  I  heard  her  speak  as  she  did,  in  a 
way  that  I  can  not  describe  to  you  ;  and  I  feel,  at  times, 
like  running  round  there,  and  begging  her  to  let  me  come 
to  her  every  day,  to  hear  her  talk  of  the  better  country, 
and  of  the  road  that  leads  to  it." 

"  She  will  be  delighted  to  see  you,"  said  Esther,  smiling. 
"There is  a  great  charm  about  naturalness,  and  I  do  not 
wonder  thai  it  gives  you  pleasure  to  hear  the  happy  talk 
of  my  old  friend." 

"  She  must  give  me  some  of  her  time,"  said  Miss  Godol 
phin.  "  If  it  were  not  for  leaving  my  aunt  inconsolable,  I 
should  offer  myself  to  Mrs.  Green  as  a  pupil,  and  take  my 
place  among  her  other  orphans." 

"And  yet  you  would  take  me  away  into  the  great 
world  !"  said  Esther,  smiling. 

"  Oh  !  I  only  meant,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  that  I  de 
sired  to  see  more  of  you — to  have  you  more  with  us  ;  and 


DE   VANE.  299 

I   really  think  that  you  would  help  to  make  the  great 
world  better  and  happier." 

"  I  shall  certainly  be  very  happy  to  be  more  with  you," 
said  Esther.  "  I  am  afraid  of  the  great  world." 

"  What  is  called  the  fashionable  world,"  said  Miss  Go- 
dolphin,  "  is  to  me  not  only  unattractive,  but  repellent. 
It  is  to  the  last  degree  distasteful  to  me.  I  have  walked 
through  its  vain  mask,  and  feel  now  like  one  who,  sitting 
out  a  gay  ball,  stands  in  the  cold  gray  light  of  morning, 
when  the  music  has  ceased  and  the  guests  have  gone, 
looking  at  the  decorated  room,  lately  so  brilliant,  now  va 
cant  and  chilling ;  and  I  ask  myself  if  it  can  be  possible 
that  these  same  people  will  ever  return  to  resume  their 
revelry." 

"  Society,"  said  Esther,  "  ought  to  be  organized  upon  a 
different  basis.  Social  enjoyment  there  ought  to  be,  but 
surely  it  may  be  had  without  making  society  itself  the 
worse  for  it.  Life  is  too  serious,  too  momentous  an  affair, 
to  allow  us  to  pass  through  it  seeking  amusement  merely. 
Our  tastes  may  be  cultivated,  refined,  ministered  to  by  the 
arts,  by  music,  by  literature,  by  conversation ;  and  we 
may  indulge  in  whatever  entertains  us,  without  making 
us  frivolous,  or  without  degrading  us,  by  lessening  our 
love  for  the  pure,  beautiful  objects  which  are  within  our 
reach." 

"  Oh  !  yes,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  we  need  not  live  in 
solitude,  nor  ignore  society,  nor  become  misanthropic." 

"  Visiting,"  said  Esther,  "  as  it  is  usually  conducted, 
seems  to  me  very  unsatisfactory." 

"  Odious !"  said  Miss  Godolphin ;  "  and  I  carry  it  on 
chiefly  by  cards ;  for  I  will  not  lend  myself  to  the  paltry 
ceremonies  which  consist  of  calling,  and  sitting  for  a  few 
moments,  and  talking  commonplaces,  and  hurrying  to 
some  other  parlor  to  repeat  the  same  senseless  form.  I 
will  not.  In  Europe  they  arrange  things  beautifully,  for 


800  DE  VANE. 

there  society  is  admitted  to  be  artificial,  and  it  has  its 
laws,  perfectly  well  understood.  In  the  first  place,  when  a 
stranger  goes  to  reside  in  a  place,  he  is  expected  to  make 
the  first  call,  on  such  persons  as  he  may  desire  to  open 
social  relations  with — reversing  our  rule,  and  very  properly 
too,  I  think ;  for  it  may  not  be  known  that  such  a  person 
has  arrived,  or  it  may  not  be  his  wish  to  enter  society. 
So,  the  new-comer  makes  the  first  call,  and  leaves  his  card 
at  such  doors  as  he  may  wish  afterward  to  enter  as  a 
visitor  there.  Those  who  desire  to  recognize  social  re 
lations  with  the  new-comer,  may  return  the  call,  either  by 
sending  a  card,  the  most  frigid  of  all  modes  of  recognition, 
or  by  driving  to  the  door  and  leaving  a  card,  which  is  re 
spectful  but  stately ;  or  by  calling  in  person,  and  sending 
iii  a  card  with  one  of  the  corners  turned  down,  which 
means  that  you  are  willing  to  see  the  person  hereafter ;  or 
by  ringing  the  door-bell,  sending  in  your  name,  and  asking 
for  the  person — all  of  which  is  perfectly  well  understood 
by  all  well-bred  people  in  Europe.  And  for  my  part,  I 
admire  the  system,  and  shall  act  upon  it  here." 

"  A  very  large  circle  of  merely  formal  people  is  neither 
profitable  nor  agreeable,"  said  Esther. 

"  Forms,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  are  not  to  be  over 
looked.  They  have  their  importance.  But  within  the 
circle  of  form  there  must  be  a  smaller  one  of  real  interest 
and  heart  attachment.  I  am  pleased  with  our  society 
here.  It  is  unusually  good ;  but  with  the  large  number 
of  young  persons  who  surround  us,  it  is  not  to  be  expected 
that  we  can  know  them  all  intimately." 

"  I  shall  hope  to  see  you  often,"  said  Esther,  "  even  when 
you  go  to  the  country." 

"  Oh  !  yes,"  she  said ;  "  the  distance  is  very  short.  We 
shall  drive  in  almost  daily,  and  we  shall  insist  upon  keeping 
you  with  us  part  of  the  time." 

Esther  expressed  her  thanks,  and  said : 


DE   VANE.  301 

"  Our  friend,  Mr.  Waring,  was  projecting  some  riding 
excursions  only  last  evening,  and  it  is  his  wish  that  you 
should  join  us  in  them." 

"  Oh !  thank  you,"  said  she,  "  I  shall  be  very  happy  if 
you  will  consent  to  take  me  as  one  of  the  party,  and  will 
join  you  at  any  time." 

"  I  have  said  to  Mr.  Waring  that  I  must  wait  for  the 
coming  of  my  own  horse.  I  shall  order  him  to  be  brought 
to  me  without  delay." 

"  Is  he  far  from  here  ?  Will  it  require  some  time  to  get 
him  here  ?" 

"  But  a  few  days,"  said  Esther.  "  He  is  just  now  enjoy 
ing  country  life,  and  I  should  have  had  him  brought  to 
me  in  the  spring,  but  I  was  so  occupied  that  I  did  not 
do  so." 

"In  the  mean  time,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  we  can  sup 
ply  you,  perhaps.  .We  have  at  our  country  place  two  or 
three  good  saddle-horses,  I  believe." 

"I  must  wait  for  Manfred,  thank  you,"  said  Esther. 
"  We  know  each  other." 

"  When  Mr.  De  Vane  returns,"  said  Miss  Godolphin, 
"  he  must  find  us  fearless  horsewomen.  Those  Virginia 
gentlemen,  especially  from  the  mountains,  do  ride  su 
perbly." 

"  Of  course,  then,"  said  Esther,  "  we  must  be  diligent  in 
the  mean  while ;  and  I  promised  Mr.  Waring  to  see  you 
to-day  on  this  important  matter." 

"  Ah !"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  looking  at  Esther  quickly, 
"  does  Mr.  Waring  wish  me  to  join  you  before  Mr.  De 
Vane's  return  ?" 

"  He  is  quite  earnest  about  it,"  said  Esther. 

Miss  Godolphin  looked  gratified,  and  said : 

"  Any  one  might  find  it  a  sufficient  attraction  to  attend 
you  and  Mr.  Waring,"  she  said,  "  independent  of  the  pleas 
ure  of  being  on  horseback ;  but  I  fancied  that  he  was  so 


302  DE   VANE. 

engrossed  by  you  and  his  friend  Mr.  De  Vane,  that  lie 
had  no  room  for  any  one  else  in  his  heart." 

Esther  laughed,  and  said :  "  We  are  good  friends,  it  is 
true — tried  friends ;  and  his  attachment  to  Mr.  De  Vane 
is  great ;  but  I  do  not  think  we  fill  his  entire  heart." 

"  I  never  witnessed  any  thing  like  his  friendship  for  that 
young  Virginian,"  said  Miss  Godolphin.  "  I  believe  he 
would  lay  down  his  life  for  him  to-morrow;  and  as  to 
yourself,  I  have  heard  it  said  that  he  entertains  for  you 
the  grand  passion." 

"  For  me  !"  exclaimed  Esther,  coloring  to  the  temples. 
"  Why,  he  is  to  me  as  a  brother.  I  have  known  him  since 
I  was  a  child." 

Miss  Godolphin's  eyes  rested  on  her,  with  an  earnest 
look.  "  That  is  just  what  Mr.  Clarendon  said,"  she  re 
marked.  "  lie  vindicated  you  promptly,  and  added  that 
you  had  never  loved  any  one."  , 

The  receding  blood  again  rushed  to  Esther's  face,  and 
she  said  in  low  tones  :  "  I  thank  Mr.  Clarendon." 

"  Do  you  think,  Miss  Wordsworth,  that  men  are  capable 
of  true,  unswerving,  lifelong  attachments  ?" 

"  Really,"  said  Esther,  "  I  have  not  studied  the  philo 
sophy  that  would  enable  me  to  answer  that  question." 

"  Lord  Bacon's  philosophy,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  the 
philosophy  of  observation  and  experience — the  philosophy 
of  life — makes  me  doubt  it." 

Esther's  face  was  troubled.  An  indefinable  shadow 
passed  over  her  spirit. 

"  Observe,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  I  am  only  skeptical. 
My  faith,  or  rather  my  rejection  of  faith,  is  not  confirmed." 

"It  is  to  be  hoped,"  said  Esther,  "that  you  will  adopt 
a  brighter  creed.  It  is  dreadful  to  doubt ;  and  I  should 
think,  to  doubt  the  loyalty  of  those  we  love,  would  make 
one  most  miserable." 

For  a  minute  or  two  Miss  Godolphin  said  nothing.     She 


DE   VANE.  303 

seemed  lost  in  thought,  unconscious  of  the  presence  of  Es 
ther.  She  looked  out  upon  the  garden.  The  perfume  of 
its  flowers  came  through  the  open  window,  and  the  glanc 
ing  sunbeams  played  over  the  deep-green  leaves  of  the 
oleander. 

Where  had  the  thoughts  of  Miss  Godolphin  wandered  ? 
What  converse  was  she  holding  with  her  own  heart,  as 
memory  threw  its  broad  light  over  the  past  ? 

"  And  Mr.  Waring  is  your  friend  ?"  she  said  at  length. 
"  He  looks  like  a  true  man.  You  are  happy,  Miss  Words 
worth,  in  the  possession  of  such  a  friend." 

"  I  prize  him  highly,"  said  Esther.  "  He  is  a  true  man 
— noble,  generous,  sincere,  earnest.  His  mind  and  his 
heart  are  both  grand." 

Miss  Godolphin's  face  expressed  interest,  and  Esther 
proceeded  to  give  a  statement  of  Waring's  course — his  at 
tachment  to  his  sister;  his  unselfish  relinquishment  of  his 
share  of  the  joint  estate  inherited  by  them,  for  her  benefit ; 
his  engaging  in  teaching  ;  his  career  in  college ;  and  his 
pure,  fervent  faith  as  a  Christian. 

Miss  Godolphin's  face  exhibited  varying  emotions,  as 
Esther  continued,  with  an  unconscious  glow,  to  recite  her 
knowledge  of  her  friend's  history ;  and  when  she  ceased  to 
speak,  there  was  silence  for  a  moment. 

"Miss  Wordsworth,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "such  a  man 
is  godlike  !  How  immeasurably  he  transcends  those  who 
boast  of  rank,  and  plume  themselves  upon  the  possession 
of  wealth  !  Such  a  man  throws  a  crowned  king  into 
eclipse,  and  vindicates  the  claim  of  men  to  that  trust  and 
consideration  which  our  sex  always  wish  to  repose  in 
them." 

Esther  was  almost  startled  by  her  enthusiasm.  She 
said :  "  You  can  not  overrate  Mr.  Waring,  Miss  Godolphin ; 
he  is  pure  gold." 

It  was  understood,  before  Esther  left  Miss  Godolphin, 


304  DE  VANE. 

that  arrangements  should  be  made  as  early  as  possible  for 
their  equestrian  excursions ;  and  when  they  separated,  each 
felt  a  deeper  interest  in  the  other,  and  both  resolved,  that 
for  the  future  they  would  seek  each  other  oftener,  and 
indulge  a  more  unrestricted  intercourse  than  they  had 
hitherto  enjoyed. 

When  Thursday  evening  came,  Waring  appeared  punc 
tually  in  Mr.  Springfield's  library,  and  joined  the  family 
at  tea.  It  had  long  been  his  habit  to  pass  that  evening 
with  them,  and  he  prized  the  privilege. 

As  he  entered,  seeing  Esther  seated  on  a  fauteuil,  he 
advanced  to  her,  and  said  gayly  :  "  What  tidings  do  you 
bring  ?" 

She  smiled,  and  said :  "  Are  you  very  much  interested  in 
knowing  ?" 

<3 

"  I  think  I  may  venture  to  say  that  I  am.  The  sketch 
which  you  drew,  when  I  was  here  last,  of  our  horseback 
adventures,  has  so  impressed  me,  that  I  find  the  forms  of 
fair  ladies  galloping  over  my  pages  in  the  highest  eques 
trian  style,  when  I  attempt  to  read." 

"  Indeed  !"  said  Esther.  "  Day-dreams  !  You  are  really 
interested." 

"  I  must  confess  it  honestly ;  and  you  will,  as  a  humane 
person,  relieve  my  anxiety  as  speedily  as  possible." 

"  Then,"  said  Esther,  "  I  am  happy  to  say  that  my  tid 
ings  are  good.  Miss  Godolphln  graciously  consents  to 
join  us,  whenever  we  notify  her  that  we  are  ready." 

Waring's  face  lighted  up,  and  Esther  was  surprised  to 
see  the  pleasure  which  her  announcement  gave. 

"  And  they  have  not  yet  gone  to  the  country,  then  ?" 
he  said. 

"  N"ot  yet,"  said  Esther.  "  They  will  probably  go  on 
Saturday ;  but  the  distance  is  so  short,  that  it  is  only  a 
suburban  residence;  and  I  have  promised  to  visit  Miss 
Godolphin  often. 


DE  VANE.  305 

"  There  is  a  wonderful  fascination  about  her,"  said  "War- 
in°t ;  "  and  I  think  that  you  will  find  her  as  unworldly  as 
she  is  charming." 

"  She  is  remarkably  so,"  said  Esther,  "  and  that  is  her 
great  charm.  Comprehending  the  great  world  as  she  does 
— having  seen  it  in  its  many-sidedness,  to  use  a  German 
phrase — she  is  as  simple  in  her  tastes  as  if  she  had  never  left 
her  native  place.  She  is,  of  course,  cultivated  as  she  could 
not  have  been  if  she  had  remained  at  home,  but  her  tastes 
are  as  pure  and  fresh  as  possible.  She  hates  fashionablfe 
life,  and  loves  the  true,  the  simple,  and  the  beautiful." 

Waring  listened  with  evident  satisfaction  to  Esther's 
glowing  tribute  to  her  friend — for  such  she  no\v  felt  her 
to  be.  The  sympathy  between  them  became  perfect,  from 
the  moment  Miss  Godolphin  spoke  to  her  upon  the  subject 
of  religion,  as  she  had  done. 

"  Few  come  back  from  the  grand  tour,"  said  Waring, 
"  with  such  tastes.  With  all  her  genius  and  accomplish 
ments,  there  is  nothing  of  pretension  or  false  manner  about 
her.  She  is  a  very  superior  person." 

"  We  all  admire  her,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  as  every 
one  must  who  can  appreciate  qualities  so  rare  as  hers." 

"  Do  you  know  her  religious  views  ?"  asked  Waring, 
addressing  himself  to  Esther. 

"  We  had  quite  a  free  conversation  on  that  subject  when 
I  was  last  with  her,"  she  said,  "  and  I  was  distressed  to 
find  her  so  much  bewildered  ;  but  she  is  earnest  and  hum 
ble,  and  I  hope  that  she  will  soon  emerge  from  the  clouds 
which  surround  her." 

Waring  made  no  reply,  but  seemed  to  be  lost  in  thought. 
Mrs.  Springfield  had  not  been  present  when  the  conversa 
tion  was  going  on,  but  she  now  entered  the  room,  and 
that  roused  Waring  from  his  prolonged  reverie.  He  rose, 
and  took  his  seat  near  her. 


306  DE  VANE. 

"  Mrs.  Springfield,"  said  he,  "  I  am  so  lonely  now,  that 
I  hail  the  evenings  that  permit  me  to  come  here." 

"  And  why  not  come  every  evening  ?  We  should  be 
very  happy  to  see  you." 

"  Oh  !  my  books  would  suffer.  I  must  do  something  to 
help  me  on  the  road." 

"  The  days  are  so  long,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield,  "  that 
you  might  very  well  close  your  books  with  the  going 
down  of  the  sun." 

*  "  Labor  is  the  law  of  my  life,  you  know,  and  I  do  not 
know  that  it  will  ever  be  otherwise  with  me." 

They  were  invited  to  the  tea-table,  and  the  evening 
passed  off  cheerfully. 

Esther  that  night  revolved  a  subject  which  Waring's 
conversation  and  manner  suggested.  She  began,  for  the 
first  time,  to  suspect  that  he  was  deeply  interested  in  Miss 
Godolphin.  She  was  inclined  to  believe  that  the  busy 
archer  was  trying  his  arrows  upon  the  young  Professor. 
Could  he  have  the  boldness  to  try  his  archery  in  that 
direction  ?  to  venture  to  pierce  that  manly  and  hitherto 
impenetrable  breast  ? 

With  a  woman's  instinct,  she  could  very  well  conceive 
that  the  brilliant,  inexplicable,  beautiful  being  whose  sky 
was  sometimes  overcast  by  fleeting  clouds,  luminous  from 
the  very  glory  that  they  obscured,  was  the  very  person  to 
attract  a  nature  like  that  of  this  pure,  elevated,  unworldly 
man,  who  had  never  yet  been  brought  under  the  dominion 
©f  that  passion  which  exempts  so  few  from  its  control. 


CHAPTER    III. 

"  0  PURE  of  heart  !  thou  need'st  not  ask  of  me 
What  this  strong  music  in  the  soul  may  be — 
What  and  wherein  it  doth  exist  ; 
This  light,  this  glory,  this  fair  luminous  mist, 
This  beautiful  and  beauty-making  power. 
We  in  ourselves  rejoice." 

SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE. 

THE  deepening  splendors  of  summer  were  beginning  to 
catch  the  tint  of  early  autumn.  Waring  had  received  a 
letter  from  De  Vane,  announcing  his  arrival,  and  giving  a 
detailed  account  of  his  reception,  and  of  the  impressions 
made  on  him  by  re-visiting  early  scenes.  He  had  not  yet 
made  any  visits,  and  had  seen  but  few  of  the  gentlemen  of 
the  neighborhood.  General  De  Vane  had  welcomed  him 
warmly,  and  expressed  his  gratification  at  his  appearance ; 
for  he  was  full  of  health  and  vigor.  Mrs.  De  Vane  was  as 
much  moved  as  a  mother  upon  welcoming  home  once  more 
a  long-absent  son.  The  family  servants  greeted  him  joy 
ously.  Even  his  English  pointer  had  recognized  him,  and 
inanimate  objects  seemed  to  be  conscious  of  the  return  of 
their  young  lord.  Mr.  Guilford,  his  stately  neighbor,  had 
called,  and  invited  him  to  visit  him. 

Evidently  De  Vane's  welcome  had  been  a  gratifying  one, 
and  he  was  more  pleased  than  he  had  expected  to  be,  in 
returning  to  his  ancestral  home ;  but  he  sent  kind  messages 
to  friends,  and  especially  to  Mr.  Springfield  and  his  family. 

Waring  read,  and  re-read,  the  long  letter,  and  then  sat 
down  to  think  over  it.  It  was  natural  that  a  young  man 

(307) 


308  BE  VANE. 

of  family  and  fortune,  re- visiting  his  home,  should  be  pleased 
with  the  cordial  welcome  that  greeted  him,  and  conscious 
of  the  consideration  extended  to  him.  All  this  was  natu 
ral,  and  Waring  felt  that  it  was  so.  Still  there  was  a  shade 
of  disappointment  at  finding  in  the  language  of  his  friend 
somewhat  more  of  warmth  than  he  had  looked  for  in  de 
scribing  home  scenes.  He  did  not  reply  to  the  letter  im 
mediately,  but  deferred  that  until  he  could  read  his  own 
impressions  more  clearly. 

In  the  mean  while,  he  had  been  much  with  Esther  and 
Miss  Godolphin.  Manfred  had  arrived — Esther's  saddle- 
horse — and  was  in  fine  condition.  He  was  a  pure  white, 
with  mane  and  tail  as  fine  and  glossy  as  silk,  and  showed 
in  his  limbs  and  in  his  delicately-formed  head  his  Arabian 
blood.  Full  of  intelligence,  he  was  spirited  and  yet  docile, 
and  was  especially  tractable  by  his  mistress,  who  managed 
him  with  perfect  skill.  Waring  had  engaged  the  horse 
which  De  Yane  had  been  accustomed  to  ride,  and  Miss 
Godolphin  had  her  own — a  blood  bay,  with  mane  and  tail 
and  legs  black  and  glossy  as  a  raven's  plumage.  Esther, 
yielding  to  Miss  Godolphin's  repeated  and  earnest  invita 
tion,  was  passing  a  week  or  two  with'  her  friend  at  Miss 
Habersham's  country-seat,  and  Waring  was  accustomed 
often  to  ride  out  early  and  pass  the  mornings  with  the 
ladies,  who  joined  him  on  horseback.  A  servant  always 
accompanied  them,  who,  mounted  on  one  of  Mrs.  Haber 
sham's  horses,  opened  gates  for  them  when  they  rode  into 
inclosures,  and  held  their  horses,  if  they  desired  at  any 
time  to  seat  themselves  upon  the  bank  of  the  clear  stream 
which  meandered  through  the  grounds,  giving  the  place 
its  name,  CLEAE  BROOK. 

After  receiving  De  Vane's  letter,  Waring  rode  out  to 
Clear  Brook.  The  ladies  had,  after  an  early  breakfast, 
mounted  their  horses  and  gone  on  their  accustomed  ride. 


DE  VANE.  309 

Waring,  acquainted  with  the  grounds,  went  in  pursuit  of 
them,  and  soon  overtook  them. 

"  You  are  welcome,  Mr.  Waring,"  said  Miss  Godolphin  ; 
"  and  the  pleasure  is  not  lessened  by  its  being  an  unexpect 
ed  one.  You  should  have  notified  us,  and  breakfast  would 
have  waited  for  you." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  he.  "  My  good  friend  Mrs.  Bowen 
never  scolds  me,  except  when  I  go  out  before  breakfast, 
which  she  insists  will  ruin  my  health,  if  I  persist  in  it.  So 
I  took  my  coffee  before  I  mounted  my  horse." 

"  What  a  day  !"  said  Esther.  "  These  w^oods  are  glo 
rious  at  this  season,  and  the  light  falling  through  them 
reminds  one  of  descriptions  of  great  cathedrals,  where  the 
sunbeams  pour  through  windows  of  stained  glass." 

"  Yes,"  said  Miss  Godolphin  ;  "  but  never  yet  did  ca 
thedral  equal  this.  See  those  crimson  leaves,  and  that  wild 
vine  throwing  its  boundless  luxuriance  over  that  towering 
oak,  and  the  yellow  richness  of  that  young  poplar.  I  pre 
fer  this  to  any  thing  in  the  way  of  architectural  splendor 
that  I  have  ever  seen." 

"  Art  can  never  rival  this,"  said  Waring  ;  "  and  it  is  a 
happy  faculty  of  our  being  that  enables  us  to  sympathize 
with  nature." 

"Sympathy  with  nature,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  is  a 
part  of  my  being.  Everywhere,  in  the  gentlest  or  grand 
est  aspects  of  visible  creation,  I  find  something  that  ap 
peals  to  me,  and  awakens  within  me  a  living  sympathy. 
What  should  I  do  without  nature  ?  I  rejoice  in  her  smiles, 
and  share  her  sorrows  when  they  come  upon  her." 

"  It  is  most  fortunate,  too,"  said  Waring,  "  that  what 
ever  may  be  our  mood,  we  can  turn  1o  natural  objects 
with  interest." 

"  Yes,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  that  is  generally  true. 
When  artificial  objects  have  ceased  to  delight  us,  and  even 
offend  by  their  intrusive  presence,  we  .can  still  turn  to 


310  DE  VANE. 

natural  scenes,  and  find  something  to  refresh,  if  not  to 
cheer  us." 

"  I  find,"  said  Esther,  "  that  writers  whose  love  of  nature 
leads  them,  to  describe  its  charms,  interpret  the  aspects  of 
the  visible  world  so  as  to  make  them  harmonize  with  their 
own  emotions." 

"  I  have  observed  it,"  said  Waring. 

"  For,"  continued  Esther,  "  a  happy  soul  finds  nature 
happy.  It  was  while  Adam  and  Eve  stood  in  their  unsm 
iling  purity,  that  they  saw  the  beauties  of  Paradise  and 
the  glories  of^  the  outspread  heavens.  They  sang  their 
morning  hymn  of  praise  in  full  sympathy  with  the  glad 
ness  of  nature." 

"  Yes,"  said  Miss  Go-dolphin,  "  it  is  so.  Nature  smiles 
or  weeps  as  we  smile  or  weep.  But  we  may  be  so  wretch 
ed  as  to  be  indifferent  even  to  the  harshest  visitations  of 
the  elements,  and  defy  nature  even  in  storms.  The  great 
master  of  human  nature  comprehended  this  when  he  made 
poor  old  Lear  indifferent  to  the  storm.  In  reply  to  Kent, 
who  tells  him  : 

'  The  tyranny  of  the  open  night's  too  rough 
For  nature  to  endure.' 

Lear  says : 

'  Thou  think'st  'tis  much,  that  this  contentious  storm 
Invades  us  to  the  skin  :  so  'tis  to_  thee : 
But  where  the  greater  malady  is  fixed, 
The  lesser  is  scarce  felt.     .    .     . 

When  the  mind's  free, 

The  body's  delicate  :  the  tempest  in  rny  mind 
Doth  from  my  senses  take  all  feeling  else, 
Save  what  beats  there.'  " 

She  uttered  the  lines  in  a  way  that  made  them  enter  the 
souls  of  her  friends  who  rode  with  her.  They  had  checked 
the  horses  for  a  few  minutes,  when  Esther  called  their  at- 


DE   VANE.  311 

tention  to  the  beauty  of  the  scene ;  and  as  she  finished  the 
lines,  she  sat  the  very  impersonation  of  sadness. 

Waring  said,  after  a  silence  of  some  moments  :  "  Still  it 
is  possible  to  triumph  over  nature,  not  by  sadness  only, 
not  by  the  benumbing  power  of  deep  grief,  which  makes 
us  defy  it,  but  we  can  illumine  its  darkest  aspects  with  the 
light  of  our  own  spirits.  In  the  language  of  an  Eastern 
hymn,  we  may  say  in  mid- winter  to  the  frozen  earth : 

'Awake,  thou  wintry  earth  !         > 

Fling  off  thy  sadness  ! 
Fair  vernal  flowers  laugh  forth 
Your  ancient  gladness ! 
Christ  is  risen  !' 

The  soul  rejoicing  in  the  triumph  of  its  Lord,  may  spread 
a  luminous  glory  over  all  the  visible  world." 

"  I  was  crossing  the  Alps,"  said  Miss  Goclolphin,  "  in 
early  spring.  The  morning  was  one  of  extraordinary  mild 
ness,  and  the  mountains  were  in  their  glory.  Still  I  could 
feel  no  sympathy  with  the  splendid  scene — far  more  splen 
did  than  the  traveler  usually  witnesses  in  going  over  that 
pass.  Toward  evening  a  thunder-storm  came  on,  wild  and 
terrific  in  its  sublime  strength,  and  I  assure  you,  I  felt  no 
more  apprehension  than  I  do  at  this  moment.  Indeed,  I 
was  too  much  oppressed  even  to  sympathize  with  the  sur 
passing  power  of  the  elements  in  their  strife,  as  I  did  more 
than  once  after  that  time.  Can  you  help  me,  Mr.  Waring, 
to  find  that  power  which  enables  one  to  triumph  over 
storms  within  the  soul,  as  well  as  to  defy  those  which 
spread  their  fury  over  the  earth  ?" 

"  Have  you  not  read,  Miss  Godolphin,  the  account,  given 
in  language  of  simple  beauty,  of  the  storm  which  sudden 
ly  came  down  on  the.  Galilean  Sea,  when  those  who  were 
driven  before  its  fury  in  the  little  boat  which  could  not 
resist  it,  began  to  be  overwhelmed  with  fear  ?  that  when 


312  DE  VANE. 

the  tempest  was  at  its  height,  their  fear  was  increased  by 
seeing  a  form  treading  the  waters  as  if  they  had  been  mar 
ble  beneath  His  feet,  and  that  then  a  clear,  calm  voice  was 
heard  through  the  roar  of  winds  and  waves,  saying,  'It  is 
I,  be  not  afraid,'  and  that  presently  both  the  commotion 
in  the  elements  was  stilled  by  him,  and  the  commotion 
within  human  hearts,  not  less  wild,  subsided?  He  can 
give  us  a  peace  which  nothing  can  disturb,  and  he  alone." 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Waring,"  she  said,  "  I  have  read  it  ?  I  read 
that  book  more  than  I  ever  did.  Miss  Wordsworth's  ex 
ample  is  not  lost  upon  me." 

There  was  a  gentle  dignity  in  her  manner  as  she  uttered 
these  words ;  so  far  from  the  slightest  attempt  at  ef 
fect,  so  full  of  truthful  earnestness,  that  Waring  and  Es 
ther  were  both  much  impressed  with  it.  They  rode  on. 
Waring  did  not  press  the  conversation ;  he  comprehend 
ed  too  well  that  it  was  unsafe  to  disturb  the  process 
through  which  Miss  Godolphin's  soul  was  passing,  by  too 
much  of  human  counsel.  He  could  not  understand  her 
troubles,  for  he  did  not  know  her  history;  but  he  saw 
that  her  spirit  was  in  a  state  of  unrest,  and  he  hoped  that 
after  it  flew  over  the  wide  waste  of  shoreless  waters,  ex 
hausted  and  weary,  it  would  fold  its  wings  at  last  at  the 
feet  of  Him  who  invited  all  to  come  to  him  and  find  rest. 

After  riding  for  some  distance  in  silence,  he  informed 
the  ladies  that  he  had  received  a  letter  from  De  Vane. 

"Indeed!"  exclaimed  Miss  Godolphin  with  animation. 
"  And  what  does  he  write  ?" 

"  He  had  arrived  at  home,"  said  Waring,  "  but  had  been 
there  too  short  a  time  to  do  more  than  glance  at  the  sur 
roundings.  He  had  received  some  calls,  but  had  returned 
none;  nor  had  any  thing  been  said  upon  the  subject  of  his 
return  to  this  State.  He  charged  me  with  kind  messages 
to  his  friends,  and,  of  course,  names  you  both  as  embraced 
in  that  phrase." 


DE   VANE.  313 

"I  shall  accept  no  general  tender  of  regards  in  that 
way,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  smiling.  "  I  never  did  value 
any  such  expression." 

Esther  looked  at  Waring  earnestly,  but  said  nothing. 

"  Oh !  but  you  must  understand  me,"  said  Waring. 
"He  does  name  you  both,  asks  after  you  specially,  and 
alludes  to  you  more  than  once  as  his  friends." 

"Still,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "the  message  must  be 
very  intensive  to  make  me  appropriate  any  part  of  it. 
What  do  you  say,  Esther  ?" 

It  was  the  first  time  he  had  heard  her  call  Miss  Words 
worth  by  that  name,  and  it  pleased  him ;  it  proved  a 
growing  intimacy,  which  he  hoped  would  become  still 
closer. 

"  I  feel  very  much  as  you  do,"  said  Esther.  "  We  value 
words  from  friends  which  are  intended  for  us  alone." 

"  Then,  Mr.  Waring,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  you  are 
instructed  to  make  known  to  your  friend,  Mr.  De  Vane, 
that  if  he  desires  us  to  treat  his  messages  with  any  con 
sideration,  they  must  be  direct,  and  mean  something*." 

Waring  laughed.  "  Oh  !  I  am  sure  they  do  mean  much. 
You  do  my  friend  injustice." 

"  Seriously,  though,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  what  does 
he  say  of  his  impressions  ?  Does  his  heart  warm  once 
more  for  his  home  ?  and  does  he  look  back  already  upon 
us  as  if  he  saw  us  in  perspective  ?" 

"He  is  evidently  gratified  with  his'  reception,"  said 
Waring.  "  It  is  natural  that  it  should  be  so,  and  would 
be  strange  if  it  were  otherwise." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Miss  Godolphin.  "  The  *  young  laird' 
returning  to  his  ancestral  halls,  must  be  received  with  the 
honor  due  to  his  rank." 

"  That  is  it  precisely,"  said  Waring.     "  And  if  I  had  ex 
plained  for  an  hour,  I  could  not  have  given  so  proper  a 
statement  of  the  case." 
14 


314:  DE   VANE. 

"  Will  he  return  ?"  she  asked  abruptly. 
"  I  have  not  permitted  myself  to  doubt  it,"  said  Waring. 
"I  have  all  the  while  known  that  the  most  powerful, in 
ducements  to  stay  would  be  presented  to  De  Vane  upon 
his  reaching  home.  I  told  him  so,  and  tried  to  prepare 
him  in  advance  for  the  ordeal ;  and  he  uniformly  insisted 
that  his  mind  was  made  up  and  his  purpose  fixed.  I  see 
no  reason  yet  to  doubt  it.  I  have  the  greatest  confidence 
in  the  basis  of  his  character — he  is  a  true  man.  His  tastes 
sometimes  govern  him,  and  he  is  impressible ;  but  when 
he  takes  his  position,  after  considering  it  well,  he  will  hold 
it.  He  had  taken  his  position  in  regard  to  his  future  resi 
dence  before  leaving  here,  after  the  fullest  consideration, 
and  I  think  he  will  hold  it  in  the  face  of  every  thing  that 
can  be  brought  to  bear  upon  him." 

"  Wait  till  we  see  his  next  letter,"  said  Miss  Godolphin. 

Esther  said  not  a  word,  but  her  heightened  color  dis 
closed  the  interest  which  she  felt  in  the  conversation. 

Upon  reaching  the  house,  Waring  excused  himself  and 
returned  to  town. 

De  Vane  had  said  nothing  to  him  before  leaving  for  Vir 
ginia  as  to  his  sentiments  in  regard  to  Esther,  nor  had  he 
in  his  letter  made  any  allusion  to  the  subject.  His  scru 
pulous  regard  for  Esther  made  him  forbear  to  do  so,  just 
as  it  had  repressed  any  declaration  to  Esther  of  an  attach 
ment  which  he  felt  to  be  powerful.  His  sense  of  duty  to 
his  father,  too,  made  him  feel  that  it  was  imperative  on 
him  first  to  consult  him  in  regard  to  his  plans  of  life,  and 
to  endeavor  to  bring  him  to  his  own  views,  before  commit 
ting  himself  to  others. 

Still,  Waring  saw  how  deep  his  interest  in  Esther  really 
was,  and  he  comprehended  too  that  she  was  not  insensible 
to  the  regard  which  the  manner  of  De  Vane  so  plainly  ex 
hibited  for  her.  As  he  rode  slowly  toward  the  town,  these 
thoughts  troubled  him.  The  delicate  threads  which  in- 


DE  VANE.  315 

fluences  about  these  two  bright  young  beings  were  weaving 
into  the  strong  cords  of  fate,  who  could  see  ? — two  beings 
so  deeply  loved  by  him,  so  full  of  generous  and  high  quali 
ties.  He  breathed  a  silent  prayer  that  all  might  be  over 
ruled  for  their  good. 

The  weeks  flew  by.  Esther  returned  to  town,  resumed 
her  morning  visits  at  Leasowes,  and  advanced  steadily  in 
the  path  of  duty.  September  had  come.  Walking  one 
evening  in  the  public  garden,  the  gardener  respectfully 
took  off  his  hat  as  she  was  passing  a  bed  where  he  was 
clipping  a  border  of  box,  and  spoke  to  her.  She  spoke  to 
him  pleasantly,  and  was  passing  on,  when  he  said  : 

"  If  you  please,  madam,  I  was  wanting  to  inquire  if  you 
have  heard  any  thing  lately  about  the  young  gentleman 
who  used  to  walk  with  you  sometimes  ?" 

Esther's  face  flushed  instantly — how  the  tumultuous 
blood  flashed  over  it !  The  suddenness  of  the  question 
startled  her,  and  the  unconscious  gardener  stood  waiting 
for  a  reply. 

"  ISTo,"  she  said,  after  a  moment's  hesitation,  "  I  have 
not  heard  any  thing  very  lately  from  him,  but  he  is  ex 
pected  to  return  in  October." 

"  I  wish  he  was  here  now,"  said  the  man.  "  A  finer  gen 
tleman  never  trod  these  walks.  It  did  me  good  always  to 
see  his  face  ;  it  was  as  welcome  as  the  sun  after  a  shower." 

Esther  could  scarcely  repress  her  tears.  The  gar 
dener  stepped  on  the  bed  of  flowers,  and  selecting  some 
half-dozen  of  the  rarest,  presented  them  to  her,  saying  : 
"  It  will  be  a  bright  day  when  he  comes  back  to  us,  and 
I'm  glad  October  is  not  far  off." 

"  Thank  you  for  the  flowers,"  said  Esther,  "  they  are 
really  beautiful,"  and  bowing  to  the  gardener,  she  walked 
on.  It  seemed  that  she  was  to  have  De  Vane  that  even 
ing  brought  to  her  memory  by  another  friend  of  his ; 


316  DE  YAXE. 

for  calling  at  Leasowes,  for  a  moment,  she  met  "Uncle 
Jacob,"  who  seemed  disposed  for  conversation. 

"  Mighty  pretty  flowers  you've  got  there,  Missis,"  he 
said. 

"  Yes,  Uncle  Jacob,  they  have  just  been  presented  to  me 
by  the  public  gardener,  Mr.  Swan." 

"  I  think  we  can  beat  'eni,"  said  Jacob,  roused  at  once 
by  a  spirit  of  rivalry.  "  Last  time  Marster  De  Vane  was 
here,  he  said  mine  was  the  finest  garden  he  seen  anywhere 
about.  Wish  he'd  come  back  again." 

Esther  was  amused.  "Yes,  Uncle  Jacob,"  she  said, 
"  yours  is  a  fine  garden.  You  do  look  after  it  well." 

"Just  what  Marster  De  Vane  told  me,"  said  the  old 
man,  highly  gratified. 

Esther  passed  on.  She  returned  home,  and  when  sitting 
in  the  library  the  same  evening,  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Spring 
field,  after  tea,  her  servant  Antony,  a  smart,  well-dressed 
man,  who  attended  to  her  horse  and  went  on  errands  for 
her,  came  to  the  door,  and  said  : 

"  Missis,  Mr.  Hobbs  says  you  must  have  Manfred  shod 
like  Mr.  De  Vane  had  his  horse  shod  when  he  was  here. 
If  you  don't,  he'll  cut  hisself  some  time." 

"  Very  well,  Antony,"  she  said ;  "  ask  Mr.  Hobbs  to  have 
him  shod  in  that  way." 

"  He  says  too,  Missis,  that  he'd  like  mightily  to  know 
if  any  body's  heard  from  him  lately,  and  that  he  never 
missed  any  body  as  much  in  his  life." 

"  "Why,  Antony,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield,  "  how  did  Mr. 
Hobbs  happen  to  say  that  to  you  ?" 

i;  I  don't  know,  ma'am,"  he  answered,  "  but  he  says  that 
Mr.  De  Vane  used  to  come  here  mighty  often,  and  he 
thought  mebby  you'd  all  know  when  he  was  comin'  back." 

Mr.  Springfield,  who  raised  his  eyes  from  his  book  to 
look  at  Antony,  was  much  amused. 

"Tell  your  friend  Mr.  Hobbs,"  said  Mrs.   Springfield, 


DE  VANE.*  317 

"  that  we  hope  to  see  him  again  early  in  October.     Per 
haps  he  can  content  himself  until  that  time." 
'  Antony  disappeared.     It  occurred  to  Esther  that  it  was 
a  remarkable  evening,  and  it  of  course  fixed  her  thoughts 
more  intensely  than  before  upon  the  young  Virginian. 

"  "We  should  hear  something  of  Mr.  De  Vane,"  said  Mr. 
Springfield.  "  Has  Mr.  Waring  had  a  letter  recently,  do 
you  know,  Esther  ?" 

"  I  do  not  know,  uncle,"  she  said.  "  He  has  not  said 
any  thing  to  me  upon  the  subject." 

She  felt  anxious.  Her  solicitude  was  heightened  by  the 
events  of  the  day.  How  vividly  such  things  recall  the 
absent !  Who  has  not  experienced  a  series  of  small  things, 
nothing  in  themselves,  but  so  linked  together  as  to  startle 
us  by  their  conjunction  ? 

Mr.  Springfield  sat  musing  for  five  minutes,  and  then 
was  roused  by  a  rap  at  the  library-door,  when,  upon  an 
invitation  to  enter,  Waring  walked  in.  Esther  started. 
She  felt  that  he  had  heard  from  De  Vane.  She  had  that 
kind  of  subtle,  incomprehensible  impression  which  we 
sometimes  experience  in  moments  when  the  sensibilities 
are  unusually  quick,  and  the  spirit  scarcely  requires  the 
ministry  of  the  senses  to  enable  it  to  perceive  objects. 

"  Good  evening,  Mr.  Waring,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  ris 
ing  to  receive  him.  "  I  am  glad  to  see  yon." 

"We  are  all  glad  to  see  you,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield, 
giving  him  her  hand. 

,er  came  forward  and  extended  hers,  when  Waring, 
turning  to  her,  said :  "  Are  you  not  well  ?  You're  looking 
pale." 

"  Perfectly  well,"  said  Esther,  now  coloring,  "  and  I  too 
am  very  glad  to  see  you." 

Waring  sat  down. 

"  Have  you  had  tea  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Springfield. 

"  Yes,  thank  you,"  he  said,  "  and  should  have  joined 


318  '    DE  VANE. 

you,  but  calling  at  the  post-office,  I  found  a  very  long 
letter  from  De  Yane,  and  walked  to  my  own  room  to 
read  it." 

"  Good  tidings  from  him,  I  hope,"  said  Mr.  Springfield. 

"  Yes,"  said  Waring.  "  He  is  very  well,  and  begs  to  be 
remembered  in  the  kindest  terms  to  you  all." 

Mr.  Springfield  bowed. 

"  I  do  not  know  that  I  can  do  better  than  to  read  you 
that  paragraph  of  his  letter,"  said  Waring. 

"  We  shall  be  pleased  to  hear  it,"  said  Mr.  Springfield. 

Waring  took  from  his  pocket  the  letter — it  must  have 
covered  ten  pages — and  detaching  the  last  sheet,  he  pro 
ceeded  to  read  it. 

"  Having  disposed  of  these  affairs,  I  now  turn  to  other 
subjects  far  more  agreeable  to  me.  You  know,  my  dear 
Waring,  my  strong  attachments  draw  me  to  the  town, 
where,  for  more  than  three  years,  I  resided ;  where  I  first 
came  to  the  consciousness  of  manhood,  and  felt  that  my 
soul  and  intellect  had  both  opened  under  the  influences 
which  were  forming  me — for  really  it  was  a  formative 
process  through  which  I  passed.  My  attachment  to  the 
place  is  strong — to  my  friends  there,  so  strong,  that  I  feel 
it  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  be  happy  away  from 
there.  Upon  coming  here,  I  was  so  warmly  greeted,  that 
early  memories  revived  powerfully ;  and  I  could  not,  for 
some  weeks,  bring  myself  to  make  known  to  my  father 
and  to  my  aunt  my  plans  of  life.  They  seemed  to  have 
taken  it  for  granted,  upon  my  return,  that  I  had  yielded 
to  their  wishes.  It  seemed  cruel  to  undeceive  them  ;  but 
I  at  length  went  over  the  whole  ground  w^ith  Mrs.  De 
Vane,  and  satisfied  her,  at  one  sitting,  that  I  was  immov 
able.  She  saw  it,  and  felt  that  to  keep  me  here,  merely  in 
obedience  to  an  arbitrary  wish  of  my  father,  would  be  to 
sacrifice  me.  She  is  a  very  superior  woman ;  and  when 
she  became  satisfied  that  my  happiness  and  my  success  in 


DE   VANE.  319 

life  were  both  involved,  she  addressed  herself  to  the  great 
task  of  bringing  my  father  over  to  my  views.  Then  came 
the  great  struggle  that  I  have  already  described  to  you — 
a  struggle  far  the  most  painful  of  my  life.  It  is  ended. 
My  father  acquiesces ;  says  I  am  a  modern  man ;  that  I 
have  been,  in  that  Southern  college,  subjected  to  influences 
which  bring  me  into  full  sympathy  with  the  progress  of 
the  age,  and  that,  as  he  has  had  his  career,  it  is  proper 
that  I  should  be  suffered  to  shape  mine. 

"  The  struggle  is  ended,  and  I  shall  return  to  you  early 
in  October.  I  have  not  written  of  late,  because  I  was  un 
willing  to  do  so  until  I  saw  the  end ;  and  it  is  possible 
that  you,  and  others  whose  esteem  is  prized  by  me  beyond 
measure,  may  have  misinterpreted  my  silence.  I  have 
never  wavered  for  an  hour.  I  have,  in  the  first  part  of 
my  letter,  given  you  a  full  statement  of  all  that  was  offered 
to  tempt  me  to  make  this  my  home — for  I  wish  you  to 
comprehend  me — but  I  have  not  at  any  time  swerved  from 
my  purpose.  Do,  then,  make  this  known  to  my  friends — 
of  course,  I  mean  to  Mr.  Springfield,  whose  good  opinion 
you  know  I  prize ;  to  Mrs.  Springfield,  whose  fine  mind 
and  true  heart  have  done  so  much  for  me — more  than  she 
herself  can  know ;  and  to  Miss  Wordsworth.  NOT  do  I  wish 
to  be  misjudged  by  Miss  Godolphin.  Good  Mrs.  Bowen, 
I  am  sure,  has  never  had  her  faith  in  me  shaken.  Before 
quitting  here,  I  shall  make  my  arrangements  to  have  my 
interests  looked  after  for  me,  and  this  will  detain  me  some 
little  time ;  still,  you  may  expect  me  early  in  October. 
Intending  to  travel  with  my  own  horses,  I  shall  be  some 
what  longer  on  the  way.  When  I  do  arrive,  I  shall  make 
the  melodeon  discourse  its  most  triumphant  music.  Once 
more,  I  say,  I  have  had  a  great  struggle,  but  it  is  over. 

"  I  am  to  make  a  political  speech  at  Charlottesville  on 
Saturday,  being  invited  to  do  so  by  the  citizens.  Virginia 
is  safe  for  General  Jackson.  The  Hamiltons,  our  Method- 


320  .  DE   VANE. 

ist  neighbors,  have  just  called.  I  shall  go  to  meet  them. 
They  are  far  the  most  agreeable  people  I  have  seen  since 
my  return,  and  they  remind  me  vividly  of  our  friends,  the 
Springfields.  Adieu.  • 

"  Always  your  friend,  GEORGE  DE  VANE. 

"P.  S. — The  Hamiltons  sat  an  hour.  Perfectly  charm 
ing  people ;  and  they  sympathize  wholly  with  my  plans 
of  life. 

"  I  forgot  to  mention  that  I  have  a  horse  for  you — one 
of  the  best  Virginia  breed — and  anticipate  equestrian  ex 
ercises,  with  two  friends  known  to  us  both,  on  my  return. 

"  G.  D.  V." 

"  There,"  said  Waring,  "  I  have  done  my  duty." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  we  are  all  greatly  indebted 
to  you.  Your  friend  is  really  a  noble  fellow." 

"  I  know,"  said  Waring,  "  what  he  has  had  to  encounter. 
I  almost  trembled  for  the  issue." 

"  You  will  write  him  again  ?"  asked  Mr.  Springfield. 

"  Without  delay,"  said  Waring. 

"  Then,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield,  "  do  offer  him  our  con 
gratulations,  and  assure  him  of  a  warm  welcome  upon  his 
coming." 

There  was  a  spice  of  mischief  in  Waring's  composition, 
grave  as  he  was  ;  and  turning  to  Esther,  he  said : 

"  And  has  Miss  Wordsworth  no  message  for  my  friend, 
Mr.  De  Vane?" 

Esther's  face  was  radiant,  and  her  smile  bright  as  a  sun 
beam. 

"  Only  to  thank  him  for  not  having  forgotten  us,"  she 
said. 

Never  had  a  letter  diffused  greater  joy ;  and  Waring's 
own  heart  was  full  of  gladness.  He  had  read  aloud  but  a 
small  part  of  it.  De  Vane  had  given  him  an  extended 
history  of  his  trials  and  contests ;  of  his  meeting  his  early 


DE  VANE.  321 

friend,  Clara  Guilford ;  of  Mrs.  De  Vane's  plans  for  his 
future ;  of  her  criticism  of  Esther ;  and  warning  him  against 
the  designs  of  his  Methodist  friends  upon  him ;  and  he 
hinted  at  the  knowledge  which  he  had  obtained  of  the 
history  of  a  friend  of  theirs,  which  would,  perhaps,  explain 
the  mystery  of  her  sadness.  All  this,  of  course,  Waring 
kept  to  himself,  as  it  was  intended  by  the  writer  that  he 
should,  and  as  his  own  sense  of  propriety  would  have 
prompted  him  to  do. 

"  Then,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "it  is  a  settled  thing, that 
Mr.  De  Vane  is  to  reside- amongst  us.  I  must  express  my 
very  great  gratification.  I  have,  from  the  first  hour  of 
our  acquaintance,  entertained  a  high  opinion  of  him.  He 
wants  but  one  thing  to  make  his  character  complete." 

"  You  think,"  said  Waring,  "  he  is  just  where  the  young 
ruler  was,  who  came  kneeling,  and  asking  the  way  to  life." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Springfield. 

"  He  will  find  it,"  said  "Waring.  "  It  may  require  years  to 
disentangle  him  from  the  meshes  of  German  rationalism  ; 
but  I  can  not  believe  that  any  nature  so  noble,  and  that 
loves  truth  so  profoundly,  can  finally  wander  out  of  the 
way — never." 

"I  agree  with  you,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield.  "  I  have  often 
conversed  with  Mr.  De  Vane  upon  that  great  subject,  and 
he  is  earnest  in  seeking  the  right  way.  He  has  some  very 
wrong  opinions,  and  he  will  never  be  argued  out  of  them ; 
but  he  will  be  led  in  the  right  way." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Waring  warmly,  "  for  your  apprecia 
tion  of  my  friend." 

"  We  may  look  for  him,  I  suppose,"  said  Mrs.  Spring 
field,  "  in  the  course  of  a  few  weeks  ?" 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Waring,  "  that  he  ought  to  arrive 
early  in  October,  unless  some  unexpected  detention  should 
occur." 

"  He  is  to  travel  through  a  fine  country,"  said  Mr.  Spring- 
14* 


322  DE   VANE. 

field.  "  We  passed  over  the  greater  part  of  the  road  last 
fall." 

"I  wish,"  said  Waring,  "that  you  could  have  been 
present  this  evening,  when  I  informed  Mrs.  Bowen  of  De 
Vane's  decision,  and  told  her  of  his  speedy  coming.  She 
absolutely  wept  for  joy ;  and  I  do  not  doubt  that  she  will 
to-morrow  morning  commence  preparations  for  having  his 
room  in  readiness,  just  as  if  he  were  coming  to-morrow 
night." 

"  He  inspires  very  strong  sentiments,  I  suppose,"  said 
Mr.  Springfield,  "  where  he  is  well  known ;  sentiments  of 
esteem  and  affection,  which  only  a  great  nature  like  his 
can  awaken." 

"  How  is  Miss  Godolphin,  Mr.  Waring  ?"  asked  Mrs. 
Springfield. 

"  Really,  my  dear  madam,  I  can  not  say.  It  has  been 
some  days  since  I  saw  her." 

"  Some  days  !"  said  Esther.  "  It  seems  to  me  that  it  was 
only  day  before  yesterday.  Have  you  forgotten  our  meet 
ing  at  the  book-store  ?" 

Mrs.  Springfield  laughed  heartily,  and  said  :  "  Why, 
Waring,  has  it  come  to  that  ?  However,  I  suppose  two 
days  may  seem  a  long  while  to  a  young  gentleman  under 
some  circumstances.  Angels'  visits,  few  and  far  between 
— is  that  the  line  ?" 

"  It  is  hardly  deferential  enough,"  said  Esther,  "  to  treat 
a  grave  Professor  in  this  way,  when  it  is  barely  two  weeks 
before  he  enters  upon  his  duties." 

"  By  the  way,  so  it  is,"  said  he,  "  only  about  two  weeks 
before  I  shall  have  to  be  very  stately,  and  work  hard 
too." 

"  And  renounce  riding  on  horseback  ?"  asked  Mr.  Spring 
field. 

"  Never  !"  said  Waring.  "  One  may  be  allowed  that  for 
the  benefit  of  his  health  and  spirits." 


DE  VANE.  323 

"  Surely  !"  said  Esther. 

"  Of  course  !"  said  Mrs.  Springfield. 

"  Good  night !"  said  Waring,  and  rising,  and  shaking 
hands  warmly  with  his  friends,  he  walked  away  in  high 
spirits. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

"PAST,  present,  future,  all  appeared 

In  harmony  united, 

Like  guests  that  meet,  and  some  from  far, 
By  cordial  love  united." 

WORDSWORTH. 

OCTOBER  came,  rich  with  autumnal  glories.  Neither 
fruits  nor  flowers  had  disappeared,  for  in  that  mild  climate 
they  graced  even  the  stern  reign  of  winter.  There  was  a 
refreshing  coolness  in  the  morning  air,  and  the  leaves, 
touched  by  early  frost,  wore  the  varied  hues  which  give 
such  a  charm  to  the  woods  in  the  fall  of  the  year,  as  to 
make  us  cease  to  regret  the  spring.  Gold  and  crimson,  in 
termingled  with  the  never-fading  deep  green,  met  the  view 
everywhere.  The  evenings  were  delightful,  and  fires 
were  kindled,  to  temper  the  slight  chilliness  which  succeed 
ed  the  lessening  days.  Absentees  returned  to  town  ;  and 
carriages,  which  had  been  put  away  for  the  hot  season, 
were  now  drawn  out,  and  rolled  once  more  through  the 
streets.  The  doors  of  the  College  were  thrown  open,  and 
students  were  coming  in  from  all  parts  of  the  State.  The 
town  was  beginning  to  wear  a  cheerful  aspect,  and  to  re 
sume  its  animation.  Friends,  meeting  on  the  streets,  greet 
ed  each  other  warmly  ;  and  within-doors  pleasant  sounds 
were  heard,  which  spoke  of  reunited  households,  and  all 
the  routine  of  home  life  was  once  more  resumed. 

Waring  entered  upon  his  duties,  and  wore  for  the  first 
time  the  robes  of  a  professor.  His  colleagues  greeted  him 
cordially,  and  he  undertook  his  new  tasks  with  energy 

(324) 


DE  VANE. 

and  heartiness.  Quite  a  number  of  the  students  were  ac 
quainted  with  him.  They  were  members  of  some  one  of 
the  less  advanced  classes  when  he  graduated,  and,  feeling 
the  greatest  respect  for  his  character  and  talents,  they  im 
pressed  the  new-comers  with  a  high  idea  of  his  qualifica 
tions.  In  no  college  in  all  the  world  was  there  a  higher 
respect  felt  for  a  first-honor  man  than  in  that,  where  he 
had  but  a  little  while  before  received  that  distinction  ;  and 
the  £cldt  which  attended  him  on  that  occasion  secured  for 
him  a  favorable  reception  from  the  students  with  whom 
he  was  to  walk  as  a  professor — younger  himself  than  some 
of  those  who  surrounded  him,  to  hear  his  lectures. 

Mrs.  Habersham  had  returned  to  town,  and  Waring 
called  to  pay  his  respects.  He  was  received  both  by  Mrs. 
Habersham  and  Miss  Godolphin  with  marked  kindness. 
They  respected  and  trusted  him,  and  the x visits  of  no  one 
gave  them  more  pleasure  than  those  of  the  young  Profes 
sor.  His  interest  in  Miss  Godolphin  was  deepening,  and 
yet  he  found  in  her  manner  at  times  something  so  inex 
plicable  that  his  ardor  was  checked,  and  his  heart,  full  of 
generous  sympathy,  was  disturbed.  It  was  impossible  for 
him  to  conceive  what  had  thrown  a  shadow  over  the  bril 
liant  morning  of  a  life  which  had  so  much  to  give  it  splen 
dor  ;  yet  he  felt  himself  powerfully  attracted  to  her,  and 
he  resolved  to  study  the  varying  phases  of  a  character 
which  so  deeply  interested  him,  before  it  became  impossi 
ble  to  withdraw  from  its  contemplation,  without  the  loss 
of  his  own  happiness. 

"  How  does  the  College  open  ?"  asked  Miss  Godolphin. 
"  Prosperously  ?" 

"Never  with  higher  promise,"  he  said.  "We  tave  a 
larger  number  of  students  than  we  have  had  at  any  time ; 
and  we  must  recommend  to  the  Trustees  to  erect  for  us 
additional  buildings." 

"  You  want  a  new  chapel,"  she  said. 


326  DE   VANE. 

"  Yes ;  we  must  have  one ;  and  we  are  enlarging  our 
library.  We  should  have  a  building  suited  to  it." 

"  I«hope,"  she  said,  "  that  the  Legislature  will  be  gen 
erous." 

"  You  must  help  us  with  them,"  said  Waring.  "  Exert 
your  influence,  and  secure  for  us  a  large  appropriation." 

"If  I  can  do  any  thing,  you  may  count  upon  me,"  she 
replied. 

"  I  am  very  sure  that  you  can  do  much.  One  of  the 
leading  members  is,  I  am  sorry  to  learn,  earnestly  opposed 
to  classical  learning,  and  thinks  nothing  can  save  the  coun 
try  but  common-schools." 

"  Ah  !  well,  we  must  put  out  all  our  strength  against 
him,  and  urge  Mr.  De  Vane  to  activity  when  he  returns." 

"  Yes,"  said  Waring,  "  and  Mr.  Le  Grande  is  a  member 
of  the  House,  whose  splendid  scholarship  will  be  of  im 
mense  importance  to  us,  himself  at  once  an  advocate  for 
classical  learning,  and  a  noble  illustration  of  the  advan 
tage  which  it  confers.  A  graduate,  too,  of  our  College." 

"  I  hope  to  hear  him  this  winter.  He  is  said  to  be  very 
eloquent.  I  was  so  unfortunate  as  to  miss  his  great  speech 
at  the  last  session." 

"  His  eloquence,"  said  Waring,  "  is  rich  and  massive, 
formed  upon  the  classical  models.  He  rivals  them  in  the 
fertility  of  his  genius  and  the  stateliness  of  his  style. 
Some  passages  in  his  orations  are  worthy  of  the  palmiest 
periods  of  Roman  eloquence.  It  is  really  refreshing  to 
hear  him  speak.  There  is  nothing  commonplace,  nothing 
of  rant,  and  yet  an  affluent  style,  which  bears  you  away." 

"I  must  hear  him,"  said  Miss  Godolphin.  "It  is  de 
lightful  to  hear  such  oratory." 

"  Yes,"  said  Waring ;  "  to  escape  the  platitudes  of  some 
speakers,  and  the  mannerism  of  others,  is,  as  you  say, 
delightful." 


DE  VANE.  327 

"  The  Legislature  of  this  State  is  a  superior  body,  I  be 
lieve,"  she  said. 

"  Very,"  said  Waring.  "  There  are  several  members  of 
the  Senate,  and  of  the  House,  who  would  adorn  any  par 
liamentary  body  in  the  world." 

"  Then,  too,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  we  have  eminent 
men  not  in  public  life,  who  are  equal  to  any  that  fill  the 
coveted  places ;  for  instance,  Mr.  Clarendon,  and  Mr.  Hal- 
lam — not  to  mention  others." 

"Yes,"  said  Waring,  "Mr.  Hallam,  at  the  bar,  would 
rank  high  anywhere ;  and  Mr.  Clarendon,  at  the  bar,  and 
before  the  people,  is,  in  my  judgment,  unrivaled.  He  is 
imperial." 

"  So  I  have  heard  Mr.  De  Vane  describe  him,"  said  Miss 
Godolphin. 

"If  you  wish  to  kindle  De  Vane's  enthusiasm,"  said 
Waring,  "just  bring  up  Mr.  Clarendon.  His  appreciation 
of  his  friend  is  charming." 

"  And  when  are  we  to  have  Mr.  De  Vane  with  us  ?"  she 
asked. 

"  Very  soon,  probably  next  week.  He  is  on  his  way — 
he  was  detained  a  little  time  looking  after  his  affairs.  It 
seems  that  General  De  Vane,  to  secure  his  regular  visits 
to  Virginia,  has  set  apart  a  planting  interest  for  him  in 
that  State.  He  relies  upon  the  conscientiousness  of  his 
son,  to  make  him  look  after  it,  to  some  extent,  in  person. 
He  is  on  the  way,  and  I  hope  to  see  him  within  the  next 
ten  days — possibly  within  less  time  he  may  be  here." 

"  I  am  sincerely  glad,"  said  Miss  Godolphin ;  "  indeed  I 
am.  He  is  a  wonderfully  agreeable  person;  and  he  has 
vindicated  his  manliiaess  by  adhering  to  his  resolution  to 
make  this  place  his  home,  and  to  engage  in  the  actual  life- 
struggle." 

"  He  deserves  all  your  commendation,"  said  Waring. 
"  He  has  passed  through  an  ordeal  which  few  could  endure 


328  DE  VANE. 

as  he  has  borne  it.  His  tastes  and  his  ambition  were  both 
powerfully  appealed  to,  and  all  his  ancestral  pride  brought 
to  bear  upon  his  resolution ;  but  he  has  decided  to  be  a 
MAN  rather  than  an  aristocrat." 

"  You  certainly  could  give  him.  no  higher  praise  than 
that,"  said  Miss  Godolphin. 

"  ISTone,  in  my  estimate  of  character,"  said  Waring.  "  It 
fills  me  with  admiration  to  see  a  true  man — one  who  can 
bear  himself  with  that  fine  air  that  is  at  once  dignified 
and  gentle,  without  pretension  or  stiffness,  as  if  uncon 
scious  of  rank  or  distinctions,  whether  inherited  or  con 
ferred.  The  high  breeding  of  De  Vane  is  seen  in  his  bear 
ing  ;  but  the  nobleness  of  his  nature  is  such,  that  he  can 
not  be  spoiled.  His  principles  are  well  settled,  and  they 
will  triumph  whenever  they  are  tested." 

"  There  is,  I  think,  much  to  attract  him  here,"  said 
Miss  Godolphin.  "  He  seems  to  be  really  attracted  to  the 
place." 

"He  is,"  said  Waring,  "and  yet  I  could  not  dismiss  all 
anxiety  about  him  when  I  thought  of  the  Virginia  home, 
the  father,  the  aunt,  the  wealth,  the  consideration,  the 
strong  feeling  of  caste  in  which  he  was  educated.  When 
I  received  his  letter  announcing  his  intention  to  return,  it 
filled  me  with  the  exultation  with  which  one  hears  the 
news  of  a  victory ;  and  I  assure  you  that  it  required  as 
much  true  heroism  to  resist  the  temptations  to  lead  a  life 
of  luxurious  and  aristocratic  ease,  and  to  break  away  from 
the  enticements  which  surrounded  him  in  that  Virginia 
home  of  his,  as  it  does  to  enable  one  to  achieve  a  triumph 
in  battle  against  heavy  odds." 

"  Still,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  we  must  not  underrate 
our  attractions  here;  and  I  am  sure  that  Mr.  De  Vane 
knows  how  to  appreciate  them." 

There  was  something  of  archness  in  her  manner  of  say> 
ing  this,  which  implied  much  more  than  the  words. 


DE   VANE.  329 

"  But,"  she  added,  "  I  entirely  agree  with  you  in  think 
ing  that  he  deserves  .the  highest  commendation  for  carry 
ing  out  his  resolution  to  renounce  a  life  of  ease  and  inac 
tion,  for  a  career  of  active  labor." 

"  Upon  his  return,"  said  Waring,  "  I  shall  bring  him  to 
you,  that  he  may  make  his  acknowledgments  for  your  ap 
preciation  of  him." 

"  Do,"  said  Miss  Godolphin.  "  We  shall  be  very  glad 
to  see  him." 

Some  time  after,  when  the  evening  was  pretty  well  ad 
vanced,  Waring  returned  to  his  solitary  room,  to  think  of 
the  mystery  attending  Miss  Godolphin,  who,  sometimes 
very  sad,  had  been  this  evening  brighter  than  he  had  seen 
her. 

The  unusually  large  number  of  students  entering  the 
College,  gave  great  animation  to  the  town  ;  and  as  they 
took  their  evening  walks,  they  spread  through  the  streets 
their  own  brightness. 

Doctor  Hume  was  unusually  active,  and  Blanche  am 
bled  with  him  in  the  most  amiable  way,  from  the  College 
grounds  to  the  post-office,  the  book-stores,  the, printing- 
offices,  and  other  points,  where  he  habitually  called. 
Whatever  distrusts  may  have  been  entertained  as  to  his 
orthodoxy,  no  one  who  knew  him  could  regard  him  un 
kindly.  His  own  genial  nature  shone  through  his  face, 
and  gave  warmth  to  his  manners  ;  and  he  forbore  to  press 
his  peculiar  religious  views  upon  the  students. 

Leasowes  was  once  more  a  scene  of  regular  industry, 
and  Esther  had  resumed  her  accustomed  labors  with  her 
pupils.  She  was  never  brighter.  The  activity  of  her  step 
showed  the  gladness  of  her  nature.  Her  smile  warmed 
the  little  circle  of  orphaned  girls  far  more  than  the  sun 
light,  and  her  voice  filled  the  walks  which  she  trod  with 
joyous  notes.  Never  were  the  waters  which  flashed  in 
the  fountain  brighter  ;  and  as  they  filled  the  marble  basin 


330  DE  VANE. 

into  which  they  fell,  the  liquid  crystal,  overflowing  its 
edges,  gave  new  freshness  to  the  turf  which  lined  the 
little  stream  that  glided  away  into  the  -overshadowing 
shrubbery. 

De  Vane  had  not  yet  arrived,  but  he  was  expected  daily. 
Mrs.  Bo  wen,  as  Waring  had  predicted,  had  really  gone  to 
work  promptly,  to  put  his  room  in  perfect  order.  Car 
pets,  curtains,  chairs,  books,  every  thing  looked  as  fresh 
as  if  De  Vane  had  stepped  out  of  it  but  an  hour  before. 
Every  morning  she  walked  in  to  survey  it,  and  to  adjust 
the  curtains  and  dust  the  furniture ;  and  she  enjoyed  it 
next  to  a  visit  to  Waring,. who  still  retained  his  room, 
preferring  it  to  any  which  could  be  provided  for  him  at 
the  College.  She  was  becoming  very  impatient  at  the  de 
lay  in  De  Vane's  return,  and  on  Saturday  morning  walked 
into  Waring's  room,  after  making  her  usual  visit  to  his 
friend's,  just  opposite. 

"  Mr.  Waring,"  she  said,  "  when  is  Mr.  De  Vane  com 
ing  ?  I'm  afraid  something  has  happened  to  him  on  the 
road." 

"  Oh  !  ho,"  said  Waring.  "  The  road  is  a  long  one,  and 
it  requires  some  time  to  make  the  journey.  He  is  not 
coming  in  the  stage-coach,  you  know,  but  is  traveling 
with  his  own  horses  and  servant,  and  that,  you  know,  re 
quires  more  time.  I  think,  however,  we  shall  see  him 
here  now  very  soon." 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Bo  wen,  "  I  hope  the  good  Lord  will 
take  care  of  him,  and  bring  him  safely.  I  do  want  to  see 
him." 

"  Every  thing  is  ready  for  him  in  his  room,  I  suppose," 
said  Waring. 

"  Oh  !  yes,"  said  Mrs.  Bowen.  "  I've  tried  to  put  things 
to  rights.  I've  put  the  table  just  where  he  used  to  have 
it,  and  the  chairs  and  the  books  just  as  he  liked  to  have 
them.  I  hope  he'll  be  pleased." 


DE  VANE.  331 

"  You  may  be  sure  of  that,"  said  Waring.  "  He  was 
always  pleased  with  your  arrangements  in  his  room.  I 
have  often  heard  him  say  that  he  could  not  feel  at  home 
anywhere  but  here." 

The  good  old  lady  was  immensely  gratified,  and  her 
eyes  were  moist  as  she  said : 

"  Well,  I  do  love  to  work  for  Mr.  De  Yane,  and  to  put 
his  things  in  order,  he  is  so  easy  to  please." 

"  I  never  heard  him  make  the  first  complaint.  He 
doesn't  like  to  have  his  books  moved,  I  know,  and  I  never 
disturb  them,  further  than  to  brush  the  dust  oif  of  them ; 
and  I  leave  his  pens  and  papers  just  where  he  lets  them 
stay." 

Waring  smiled.  He  saw  that  Mrs.  Bowen  had  learned 
to  respect  De  Vane's  rights  ;  for,  while  scrupulously  neat 
in  every  thing,  he  would  leave  his  books  in  apparent  con 
fusion,  and  he  was  annoyed  if  one  removed  them.  Some 
times  they  covered  tables,  sofa,  chairs,  and  floor,  for  days 
together,  when  he  was  pursuing  some  particular  branch  of 
study.  Then  would  come  a  general  clearing  up,  and  the 
books  were  replaced  on  the  shelves.  No  one  but  a  student 
can  realize  the  luxury  of  being  permitted  to  leave  books 
and  papers  scattered  in  this  apparent  confusion,  with  the 
certainty  that  they  will  not  be  disturbed  by  the  ruthless 
hand  of  careful  housekeeping. 

Waring  passed  the  evening  at  Mr.  Springfield's,  taking 
tea  with  the  family. 

"  Well,  Professor,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  as  he  entered, 
"  we  are  glad  to  see  you.  How  do  affairs  go  on  at  the 
College  ?" 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Waring,  "  well.  We  are  more  pros 
perous  than  ever  before." 

"  And  what  does  Dr.  Hume  say  to  the  new  arrange 
ment  ?" 

"  He  is  very  amiable,"  said  Waring ;  "  and  is  really  so 


332  DE   VANE. 

good  a  friend,  that  he  would  make  no  objection  if  he  dis 
approved  it.  But  I  do  not  think  he  does.  He  is  a  man  of 
liberal  spirit,  and  contends  for  perfect  freedom  of  opinion." 

"  He  seems  to  be  deeply  interested  in  politics,"  said  Mr. 
Springfield,  "  and  is  intensely  of  the  State  Rights  school 
of  thinkers." 

"  Yes,"  said  Waring,  "  he  at  times  utters  some  startling 
opinions,  which  may  yet  be  as  formidable  as  dragon's 
teeth,  and,  if  wide-spread,  will  yield  great  armies." 

"  So  I  think,"  said  Mr.  Springfield ;  "  but  I  agree  with 
him  in  politics  at  least.  It  is  of  the  first  importance,  to 
resist  the  tendency  to  consolidation  in  the  Government, 
which  is  beginning  to  manifest  itself.  If  it  should  go  on 
for  a  few  years  as  it  is  now  doing,  the  whole  character  of 
the  Government  will  be  changed." 

"  That  is  true,"  said  Waring.  "  But  if  every  Southern 
State  would  resist  the  encroachments  of  the  Federal 
Government,  as  Georgia  has  done,  we  should  have  very 
little  trouble." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  Georgia  has  done  nobly  ; 
and  the  emphatic  announcement,  that,  the  argument  being 
exhausted,  it  was  the  purpose  of  the  people  to  stand  by 
their  arms,  seems  to  have  been  accepted  as  an  authentic 
utterance  of  the  will  of  the  State." 

"  Have  you  read  Dr.  Hume's  new  work  on  Political 
Economy  ?"  asked  Waring. 

"  ISTo,"  replied  Mr.  Springfield.  "  It  was  sent  to  me 
by  Mr.  Muller,  some  days  since,  but  I  have  not  yet  had 
leisure  to  look  into  it." 

"You  will  be  pleased  with  it,"  said  Waring.  "But 
some  of  his  propositions  may  startle  you.  Pursuing  the 
idea  that  money  is  but  the  representative  of  property, 
having  no  real  value  in  itself,  he  conducts  you  to  the  con 
clusion  that  the  imports  of  a  nation  are  the  best  measure 


DE  VAtfE.  333 

of  its  wealth ;  and  that  a  country  is  enriched  by  importing, 
no  matter  how  little  it  may  export." 

"A  very  sound  proposition,  certainly,"  said  Mr.  Spring 
field,  "  if  a  country  can  produce  a  sufficient  supply  of  the 
precious  metals  to  pay  for  the  articles  which  it  buys  from 
abroad ;  but  I  can  never  believe  that  a  nation,  any  more 
than  an  individual,  can  be  enriched  by  running  in  debt." 

"  The  book,"  said  Waring,  "  is  remarkable  for  its  clear 
ness  ;  and  you  will  like  it.  I  quite  agree  with  its  author, 
that  a  mere  hoarding  of  money  can  never  increase  the  real 
wealth  of  an  individual  or  a  nation." 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Mr.  Springfield. 

At  this  moment,  Mrs.  Springfield  and  Esther,  who  had 
just  returned  from  a  drive,  entered  the  room,  and  expressed 
their  gratification  at  meeting  Waring.  They  went  in  to 
tea,  and  the  conversation  became  general. 

"  We  found  our  drive,"  said  Esther,  "  a  delightful  one. 
There  is  a  refreshing  coolness  in  the  air." 

"  I  do  not  remember  to  have  seen  a  finer  season,"  said 
Waring.  ."  The  early  frost  has  touched  the  leaves  with 
the  richest  hues,  and  the  crisp  earth  under  one's  tread  is 
exhilarating.  In  what  direction  did  you  drive  ?" 

"  We  took  the  upper  road,"  said  Esther.  "  It  is  un 
dulating,  and,  I  think,  affords  the  finest  view  of  our  en 
virons." 

"  Much,"  said  Waring.  "  That  bold  little  stream  that 
pours  its  noisy  waters  over  the  road,  always  refreshes  me." 

"For  my  part,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "I  prefer  the  river. 
Either  to  drive  to  the  mill,  and  from  there  proceed  down 
to  the  ferry,  or  to  go  directly  from  the  town,  down  the 
river-road,  some  three  or  four  miles,  is,  at  this  season, 
especially  pleasing  to  me." 

"I  wonder,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield,  "that  you  can  over 
look  the  beauties  of  the  road  leading  to  Mrs.  Habersham's 


334:  DE  VANE. 

country-seat.  The  environs  in  that  direction,  I  think 
much  the  finest." 

"  If  it  were  not,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  that  you  must 
traverse  a  mile  or  two  of  sand,  I  might  agree  with  you." 

"  Yes,  but  you  have  the  tall  pines  as  a  compensation," 
said  Esther.  "  Let  others  boast  of  the  oak,  and  describe 
its  spreading  majesty  as  they  may,  but  the  pine  is  my 
tree.  How  it  lifts  it  lofty  head  above  the  surrounding 
forest,  so  stately,  so  still,  so  silent,  unless  the  wind  sweeps 
through  it,  and  then  it  sends  out  its  deep  solemn  tone,  as 
if  the  spirit  of  humanity  dwelt  there  !  Often  in  summer 
mornings,  when  the  bright  sky  was  cloudless,  and  the 
earth  bathed  in  its  light,  have  I  sat  under  the  pine  trees, 
listening  to  their  sad  music.  Far  up-  in  the  air,  birds 
were  floating,  and  not  a  sound  was  heard  to  break  the 
solemn  tone  of  the  strain  which  sounded  like  the  wail  of 
the  distant  sea ;  and  many  a  summer  evening  have  I  stood 
to  see  the  sun  go  down  behind  a  pine  forest,  sending  his 
fierce  beams  athwart  the  dark-green  branches,  until  they 
seemed  to  blaze.  I  love  the  pine.  It  is  a  dear  tree." 

She  spoke  with  an  enthusiasm  kindled  by  the  recollec 
tion  of  early  scenes,  and  her  face  beamed. 

"  Thank  you  for  your  tribute  to  the  pine,"  said  Waring. 
"  It  is  associated  with  my  school-days.  I  often  wandered 
through  the  stately  pine  forests,  impressed  by  the  scenes 
which  you  describe,  watching  the  clear  streams,  and  climb 
ing  the  chalk-hills." 

"  I  love  the  pine,"  said  Esther,  "  as  the  Arab  loves  the 
palm-tree.  Both  rise  with  stately  glory,  and  catch  the 
earliest  light  of  day.  It  is  very  common  to  hear  persons 
speak  of  the  majestic  oak:  to  me  the  pine  is  far  more  im 
pressive  ;  and  when  winter  comes,  and  strips  the  oak  of 
its  glori'  ,  the  pine  stands  in  undiminished  grandeur,  de 
fying  s<  ms  and  ice,  like  a  true  man  meeting  adversity, 
unchanged,  and  unchangeable." 


DE  VANE.  335 

"  If  you  emblazon  your  arms  at  any  time  upon  your 
coach,  Esther,"  said  Mr.  Springfield  playfully,  "  you  must 
add  the  pine.  I  think  it  would  do  well  to  place  it  in  the 
centre,  and  group  the  other  objects  about  it,  or  omit  them 
altogether." 

"  I  should  be  content  with  the  pine  alone,"  said  Esther. 

"  Mrs.  Habersham's  place,"  said  Waring,  "  is  skirted 
on  one  side  by  a  remarkably  fine  grove  of  young  pines  ; 
and  I  thought,  as  I  rode  through  it,  on  my  late  visit  there, 
that  I  did  not  know  any  woods  more  beautiful  —  a  sad 
beauty  though  it  is.  One  feels  a  sense  of  loneliness  in 
the  pine  woods,  more  intense  than  he  experiences  else 
where." 

"  I  love  trees  which  change  their  foliage,"  said  Mr. 
Springfield.  "It  is  beautiful  to  witness  the  fall  of  the 
leaves,  when  you  look  to  the  reproduction  of  the  departed 
glories  of  the  forest  in  the  coming  spring.  Nature  im 
presses  us  in  all  her  aspects,  and  especially  in  the  varying 
seasons.  The  year  is  the  type  of  time,  and  to  me  its 
course  is  nothing  short  of  sublime,  when  I  look  upon  it, 
as  chronicling  the  advance  of  time  toward  eternity  —  the 
finite  foreshadowing  the  infinite." 

"  Still,"  said  Esther,  "  I  love  to  see  some  trees  standing 
with  unchanging  verdure  and  undecaying  beauty  in  the 
midst  of  the  general  decline  in  the  glories  of  the  forest. 
It  is  so  consoling  to  feel  that  all  things  do  not  acknow 
ledge  the  power  of  mutability  —  resisting  that  sway  which 
Spenser,  in  the  Faerie  Queene,  describes  as  potential  over 
every  thing  under  the  heaven's  rule,  and  which  made  him 

loathe 

*  This  state  of  life  so  tickle, 
And  love  of  things  so  vain  to  cast  away  ; 
Whose  flowering  guide,  so  fading  and  so  fickle, 
Short  Time  shall  soon  cut  down  with  his  consumin 


"And  do  you  read  the  Faerie  Queene  ?"  asked'  Waring 


336  DE  VANE. 

"  With  real  pleasure,"  said  Esther  ;  <c  some  parts  of  it, 
at  least." 

"  His  pathetic  description  of  patient  waiting  is  one  of 
the  strongest  to  be  found  in  any  language.  It  was  evoked 
by  his  personal  disappointments." 

"  Royal  favor,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  is  almost  as  un 
certain  as  popular  applause." 

"  When  are  we  to  see  Mr.  De  Yane  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Spring 
field. 

"  I  look  for  him  every  day  now,"  said  Waring.  "  He 
must  be  quite  near  here,  unless  something  has  detained 
him  on  the  road." 

"  He  does  not  travel  by  the  public  conveyances,  I  be 
lieve,"  she  said. 

"  ISTo,"  said  Waring,  "  he  comes  with  his  servant  and 
his  own  horses,  and  this,  of  course,  makes  the  journey 
somewhat  tedious." 

"  He  will  find  it  more  agreeable,  however,"  said  Mr. 
Springfield,  "  especially  traveling  through  the  district  of 
country  which  he  will  traverse  in  coming  here." 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield,  "  that  Mrs.  Bowen 
is  ready  to  receive  him  ?" 

"  Ready !"  said  Waring.  "  I  wish  you  could  see  his 
room.  No  mother  ever  looked  for  the  return  of  an  absent 
son  with  greater  eagerness.  It  would  not  surprise  me  to 
find  him  upon  my  return,  this  evening." 

But  Waring,  returning,  soon  after  this  conversation,  to 
Mrs.  Bowen's,  did  not  find  his  friend.  He  had  not  yet 
arrived. 


CHAPTER     V. 

44  THAT  is  my  home  of  love  :  if  I  have  ranged, 
Like  him  that  travels,  I  return  again." 

SHAKESI  EARB. 

ON  the  following  Wednesday  evening,  about  sunset,  a 
traveler  was  seen  entering  the  town,  driving  in  an  elegant 
sulky,  a  very  fine,  large  bay  horse  ;  while  a  servant,  mount 
ed  on  another  closely  resembling  him,  followed.  The  serv 
ant  led  a  loose  horse  of  extraordinary  beauty — a  chestnut 
sorrel,  with  heavy  mane  and  tail.  All  the  horses  were  of 
the  best  Virginia  breed,  and  in  form  and  action  displayed 
their  fine  qualities.  All  the  appointments  about  the  trav 
eler's  harness,  the  dark  livery  of  the  servant,  the  trap 
pings  of  the  horses,  displayed  taste,  and  were  unmistak 
ably  aristocratic.  His  own  dress  was  simply  elegant — 
rather  plain  than  showy.  He  drove  directly  to  Mrs.  Bow- 
en's  ;  and  as  he  approached  the  house,  he  saw  a  gentleman 
seated  in  the  portico,  enjoying  the  freshness  of  the  quiet 
evening  air.  It  was  Waring. 

Waring  was  seated  with  his  face  turned  away  from  the 
street  by  which  the  traveler  approached  Mrs.  Bowen's 
house,  and  it  was  not  until  he  stopped  directly  in  front  of 
it,  that  he  turned  to  observe  him.  He  then  instantly 
started  up,  and  rushing  out,  exclaimed : 

"  What !  De  Vane,  have  you  actually  arrived  at  las}  ?" 

"  I  am  happy  to  say  that  I  am  here  bodily,"  replied  De 
Vane,  extending  his  hand,  which  Waring  shook  heartily. 
"  What  with  moving  accidents  by  flood  and  field,  I 
15  (337) 


838  DE   VANE. 

thought  at  times  that  I  should  never  reach  here.  How 
are  all  our  friends  ?" 

"  Well,"  said  Waring,  "  very  well,  and  looking  for  you 
daily.  You  are  somewhat  behind  time.  But  come  in." 

"  Where  is  Caasar  ?"  said  De  Yane.  "  I  must  send  him 
to  show  my  man  the  way  to  the  livery-stable." 

Ca3sar  appeared  —  an  active  black  man,  Mrs.  Bowen's 
chief  reliance  in  the  conduct  of  all  out-door  aifairs — and 
very  cordially  extended  his  hand  to  De  Yane,  and  gave  him 
a  generous  welcome.  De  Yane  instructed  him  to  &  ow  his 
servant  Tully  to  the  livery-stable,  and  Csesar,  after  unstrap 
ping  De  Yane's  trunk,  protected  from  dust  and  rain 'by  a 
heavy  bear's  skin,  and  taking  his  traveling  articles  into  the 
house,  mounted  into  the  sulky  and  drove  to  the  stable, 
followed  by  his  classical  namesake. 

Mrs.  Bo  wen  met  De  Yane  as  he  'entered  the  house,  and 
gaA^e  his  hand  an  energetic  shaking,  while  tears  of  joy 
rolled  down  her  cheeks.  "  I'm  so  glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  De 
Yane,"  she  said.  "  I  began  to  be  uneasy  about  you." 

"Why,"  said  De  Yane,  "I  was  detained  some  two  or 
three  days  in  Yirginia  longer  than  I  supposed  I  should  be, 
and  then  I  found  one  or  two  mountain  streams  so  much 
swollen  by  late  rains,  that  I  was  kept  some  few  days  wait 
ing  for  them  to  run  down,  and  finally  had  to  swim  them, 
with  bag  and  baggage.  But  here  I  am,  safe,  at  last,  Mrs. 
Bowen." 

"  Thank  the  Lord  for  it !"  she  said.  "  And  your  room  is 
ready  for  you,  and  has  been  for  weeks." 

"Ah!  thank  you,"  said  De  Yane.  "Then  I  will  go  to 
it,  and  get  some  of  this  dust  off;  and  when  my  servant  re 
turns  from  the  stable,  please  send  him  to  me." 

Waring  accompanied  him  to  his  room,  and  they  talked 
over  their  affairs.  Both  had  a  great  deal  to  say — many 
questions  to  ask  and  answer.  Waring  gave  him  an  ac 
count  of  affairs  that  particularly  interested  him ;  and  upon 


DE   VANE.  339 

De  Vane's  asking  after  Mr.  Springfield  and  his  family,  he 
gave  him  a  full  statement  of  Esther's  doings,  comprehend 
ing,  of  course,  that  it  would  gratify  him.  In  reply  to  De 
Vane's  inquiries,  Waring  spoke,  too,  of  Mrs.  Habersham 
and  Miss  Godolphin,  representing  the  interest  which  "both 
had  expressed  in  De  Vane,  and  their  gratification  at  learn 
ing  that  it  was  his  purpose  to  fix  his  residence  here. 

The  conversation  was  a  long  and  satisfactory  one.  The 
past,  the  present,  and  the  future,  all  were  discussed,  and 
when  esar  came  to  invite  them  to  supper,  the  friends  had 
not  yet  concluded  their  interview ;  but  they  descended 
promptly  to  the  table.  Mrs.  Bowen  had  made  ample  pre 
paration  for  De  Vane,  fancying,  of  course,  as  good  old 
ladies  will  do,  when  an  absent  one  returns,  that  he  had 
been  half-starved  on  the  journey.  A  beef-steak,  two  boiled 
fowls,  and  at  least  a  dozen  varieties  of  hot  bread,  smoked 
on  the  luxurious  table.  Knowing  that  De  Vane  disdained 
tea,  clear,  amber-colored  coffee,  with  rich  cream,  appeared, 
and  De  Vane  and  Waring  both  partook  of  the  bounties  in 
a  way  to  gratify  Mrs.  Bowen. 

"  This  coffee,  Mrs.  Bowen,"  said  De  Vane,  "  excels  any 
that  I  have  seen  since  I  left  your  house.  The  gods  might 
throw  away  their  nectar  for  it." 

"  I  know  you  always  liked  it,"  said  the  gratified  old 
lady,  "  and  I'm  glad  to  see  you  drinking  it  once  more.  It's 
the  real  Old  Government  Java." 

"  That  it  is,"  said  De  Vane,  "  and  I  would  not  give  it  for 
all  the  Mocha  in  the  world." 

"  Nor  I,"  said  Waring.     "  The  flavor  is  perfect." 

"And  then,  too,"  said  De  Vane,  "there  is  a  great  deal 
in  the  making.  How  do  you  succeed  in  having  it  so  uni 
formly  good  ?" 

"  Why,"  said  Mrs.  Bowen,  "  I  pick  it  myself  before  it  is 
parched,  so  as  to  take  out  every  bad  grain.  Then  I  have 
it  stirred  while  it  is  parching,  to  keep  it  from  burning. 


340  DE  VANE. 

Then  I  grind  it  every  time  I  want  to  use  any,  and  instead 
of  the  French  way,  I  take  the  old-fashioned  way  of  boiling 
it  in  the  tin  pot  which  is  brought  on  the  table.  Then  I  put 
the  sugar  in  the  cup,  pour  in  the  cream,  stir  it  well,  and 
stir  it  while  I  pour  the  coffee  in  the  cup." 

"  It's  a  regular  science,"  said  De  Vane,  "  and  if  ever  I  go 
to  housekeeping,  I  must  get  you  to  instruct  me." 

"  Oh !  I'll  do  that,  you  may  be  sure,"  said  Mrs.  Bowen, 
"  if  you  set  up  housekeeping  anywhere  about  here." 

"  Well,  that  is  understood,"  said  De  Vane ;  "  and  as  to 
the  place  of  my  keeping  house,  that  may  be  considered 
as  settled,  too,  for  I  intend  to  make  this  place  my  home." 

"  So  Mr.  Waring  told  me,  some  time  ago,"  she  said, 
"  and  I  was  mighty  glad  to  hear  it,  as  I've  no  doubt  others 
will  be,  too." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  De  Vane. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Waring,  "  that  though  you  have  set 
tled  the  question  as  to  where  you  will  set  up  your  house 
hold  gods,  you  have  not  yet  fixed  upon  the  time." 

"  Oh  !  no,"  said  De  Vane,  "  that  is  quite  uncertain." 

"  You  do  not  propose  to  set  up  a  bachelor's  establish 
ment,  I  presume  ?"  said  Waring. 

"  Oh !  no,"  replied  De  Vane.  "  I  do  not  approve  that 
way  of  living ;  and  Mrs.  Bowen  must  take  care  of  me  until 
I  find  some  one  who  will  consent  to  share  my  fortunes 
with  me,  through  the  journey  of  life." 

"  I'll  be  very  glad  to  have  you  here,"  said  Mrs.  Bowen, 
"  but  I  think  gentlemen  ought  not  to  put  off  marrying  too 
long." 

"  You  agree  with  Dr.  Franklin,"  said  Waring. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  she  said.  "  He  was  a  wise  man,  and  gave 
good  advice  about  most  things."  .  -. 

"  He  was  an  intensely  selfish  old  fellow,  in  my  opinion," 
said  De  Vane ;  "  and  reduced  every  thing  in  heaven  and 
earth,  to  the  standard  of  his  utilitarian  philosophy." 


DE  VANE.  341 

"  He  aspired  simply  to  be  a  philosopher,"  said  Waring. 

"  The  high-priest  of  selfishness  !"  said  De  Yane.  "  Still, 
he  may  be  right  about  marriage." 

"He  was  not  without  sentiment,"  said  Waring.  "Upon 
one  of  his  visits  to  Boston,  he  caused  marble  monuments 
to  be  placed  over  the  graves  of  his  parents,  and  they  may 
be  seen  now  in  the  burying-ground  lying  on  one  of  the 
principal  streets  of  that  city." 

"  Of  course,"  said  De  Vane,  "  a  philosopher  would  hardly 
overlook  such  a  duty  as  to  pay  respect  to  the  memory  of 
a  parent,  but  I  detest  the  philosophy  that  instructs  a  man 
to  do  right,  simply  because  it  is  profitable  to  do  so." 

"  There  certainly  should  be  a  higher  sentiment  than  that 
in  our  moral  code,"  said  Waring. 

"  Yes,"  said  De  Yane.  "  I  would  not  have  a  man  run 
up  a  calculation  every  time  a  moral  question  addresses 
itself  to  him,  that  he  may  ascertain  what  he  will  make  or 
lose  by  taking  one  side  or  the  other  of  it." 

"  He  was  an  economist  in  all  things,"  said  Waring. 

"  Yes,"  said  De  Yane.  "  You  may  take  his  Poor  Richard 
Almanacs,  and  all  that  class  of  his  writings,  into  the  ac 
count,  and  you  will  find  it  a  mere  code  of  selfishness.  His 
appeal  to  the  passions,  to  go  to  bed  early  and  rise  early,  was 
not  based  upon  any  moral  or  sesthetical  view,  but  upon 
the  idea  that  they  would  save  a  certain  amount  of  money 
by  employing  the  light  of  the  sun,  rather  than  that  of 
candles." 

"  But,"  said  Waring, "  after  all,  that  was  sensible  enough." 

"  Sensible  enough,"  said  De  Yane ;  "  but  that  is  just  what 
I  object  to  in  it.  The  inevitable  money  question  is  intro 
duced  into  every  thing.  He  was  essentially  material  in  his 
ideas — of  the  earth,  earthy.  Even  in  the  great  debates 
upon  the  Federal  Constitution,  when  two  rival  sections 
were  in  conflict  about  the  largest  questions — questions  in 
volving  principles  essential  to  the  perpetuity  of  free  insti- 


342  DE  VANE. 

tutions — his  idea  was  not  to  ascertain  which  was  really  the 
true  principle,  and  insist  upon  it  until  it  triumphed ;  but 
he  was  for  a  compromise,  and  he  could  employ  no  better 
figure  than  one  taken  from  mechanics.  If,  in  making  a 
broad  table,  you  can  not  make  the  joints  fit,  you  must 
take  a  little  from  each  edge ;  just  as  if  moral  questions 
were  to  be  treated  as  deal  planks." 

Waring  laughed.  "  I  have  often  observed,"  he  said, 
"  how  poorly  figures  taken  from  physics  illustrate  moral 
propositions.  Still,  as  Mrs.  Bowen  teaches  the  same  phi 
losophy  in  regard  to  early  marriages  that  Dr.  Franklin 
does,  we  must  admit  that  it  is  worth  consideration." 

"  Certainly,"  said  De  Vane.  "  I  am  ready  to  accept  Mrs. 
Bowen  as  authority  upon  any  question.  I  have  always 
found  her  a  good  adviser." 

"  I'm  obliged  to  you,  Mr.  De  Vane,"  she  said.  "  I  always 
wish  to  advise  for  the  best ;  and  as  to  marrying  early  in 
life,  I'm  sure  that  I'm  right." 

"  You  must  be  more  earnest  in  your  exhortations,  then, 
to  Waring,"  he  said.  "  He  is  suffering  the  time  to  slip." 

"  I've  been  thinking  of  that,"  said  Mrs.  Bowen,  "  and 
I'm  glad  that  you've  mentioned  it." 

"  Much  obliged,"  said  Waring.  "  I  shall  take  the  sub 
ject  into  serious  consideration." 

"Are  you  going  out  to  preaching  to-night,  Mr.  Waring  ?" 
asked  Mrs.  Bowen. 

"  N~o,  not  this  evening,"  said  Waring.  "  I  will  stay  with 
De  Vane,  as  he  has  been  absent  so  long." 

"So  this  is  the.  evening  for  your  preaching,"  said  De 
Vane.  "  I  had  forgotten  it.  Every  Wednesday  evening, 
I  believe,  you  set  apart  for  that  service." 

"  Yes,"  said  Waring  ;  "  that  is  our  usage." 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Bowen,  "  I  must  let  Mr.  Springfield 
know  that  you  have  arrived,  Mr.  De  Vane.  The  last  time 
J  saw  him,  he  asked  me  about  you." 


DE   VANE.  343 

"  Thank  you,"  said  De  Vane.  "  If  he  should  ask  after 
me  this  evening,  do  give  him  my  best  regards,  and  say 
that  I  will  soon  call  on  him." 

Mrs.  Bowen  rose  from  the  table,  put  on  her  bonnet  and 
shawl,  and  calling  for  a  servant-girl,  started  for  the  church, 
which  was  only  some  three  blocks  from  her  house. 

The  gentlemen  went  up  to  Waring's  room,  to  continue 
their  conversation,  which  lasted  deep  into  the  night. 

At  breakfast  the  next  morning,  Mrs.  Bowen  informed 
De  Yane  that  she  had  met  Mr.  Springfield  at  church  the 
previous  evening,  and  that,  upon  his  asking  after  him,  she 
had  delivered  his  message. 

"He  seen ed  very  glad  to  hear  that  you  had  arrived," 
said  Mrs.  ])  nven,  "and  said  that  he  should  be  happy  to 
see  you  at  his  house." 

"  Very  much  obliged,"  said  De  Vane.  "  What  do  you 
say,  Waring,  to  our  calling  this  evening  ?" 

"  I  shall  be  happy  to  join  you,"  said  Waring. 

So  it  was  arranged  that  they  should  pass  the  evening  at 
Mr.  Springfield's.  Waring  went  to  the  College  to  look 
after  his  duties,  and  De  Vane  proceeded  to  arrange  his 
room  in  a  way  to  suit  him,  unpacking  his  trunk, "and  dis 
tributing  his  books  in  a  home  fashion. 

In  the  afternoon,  he  invited  Waring  to  walk  with  him, 
•  iid  taking  the  livery-stable  in  their  way,  they  entered  it, 
4Kd  examined  De  Vane's  horses.  Waring,  who  sympathized 
with  De  Vane  in  his  taste  for  horses,  was  greatly  pleased 
with  them,  pronouncing  them  quite  equal,  if  not  superior, 
to  any  he  had  seen. 

"  I  observe,"  said  he,  "  that  the  two  bays  are  closely 
matched." 

"  Yes,"  said  De  Vane.  "  I  train  my  horses  to  harness. 
It  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  their  gaits  are  injured  by 
it,  unless  they  are  used  to  draw  burdens,  or  in  heavy  car 
nages  ;  but  if  worked  only  in  a  sulky,  or  in  some  light 


344  DE  VANE. 

vehicle,  I  am  satisfied  that  their  action  is  improved  by  it. 
I  do  not  suffer  any  horse  of  mine  to  pace,  as  it  is  called. 
A  firm,  clear  trot  is  much  to  be  preferred.  It  is  my  inten 
tion  to  keep  a  light  barouche,  and  we  shall  enjoy  evening 
drives." 

"How  could  you  select  horses  so  closely  resembling 
each  other?"  asked  Waring. 

"  They  are  full  brothers,"  said  De  Vane.  "  This  one, 
which  you  observe  is  slightly  the  larger  of  the  two,  is  one 
year  older  than  the  other.  They  are  of  the  best  English 
breed,  imported  by  my  father  into  Virginia." 

"  They  are  very  superior,"  said  Waring. 

"  Bring  out  the  sorrel,"  said  De  Vane  to  his  servant. 

He  entered  the  stall,  and  led  out  a  beautiful  horse,  not 
quite  so  large  as  the  bays,  but  in  other  respects  fully  equal 
to  them. 

"  There,"  said  De  Vane,  "  is  the  most  faultless  horse  that 
I  know.  Observe  his  shoulder ;  the  slope  is  perfect,  and 
the  fore-arm,  long  and  broad,  secures  fine  .action,  while  the 
arched  loin  and  well-muscled  hind-legs  give  him  great 
power  and  speed." 

Waring  expressed  the  highest  admiration  for  him. 

"  Do  you  observe  his  halter  ?"  said  De  Vane. 

Waring  stepped  forward  to  the  head  of  the  horse,  and 
saAV  his  own  name  worked  on  the  morocco  head-band. 

"  You  have  named  him  for  me,"  he  said.  "  It  is  a  com 
pliment." 

"  He  is  yours,"  said  De  Vane.  "  I  brought  him  out  for 
you,  and  I  hope  that  you  will  like  him." 

"  You  are  not  serious,"  said  Waring,  "  in  taking  all  this 
trouble  for  me,  and  in  making  me  such  a  splendid  gift  ?" 

"  I  assure  you,"  said  De  Vane,  "  I  was  never  more  se 
rious,  and  the  gift  would  be  a  very  poor  compensation  for 
the  great  obligations  under  which  you  have  brought  me 
by  your  trouble  with  me  for  some  years.  But  the  gift  is 


DE  VANE.  345 

not  intended  as  a  compensation,  but  merely  as  an  acknow 
ledgment  of  my  sense  of  yonr  kindness." 

"  I  accept  the  horse,  De  Yane,  frankly,  as  a  mark  of  your 
friendship,  not  as  any  acknowledgment  of  an  obligation  ; 
for  you  are  under  none  to  me.  But  the  gift  is  a  valuable 
one,  and  if  our  relations  were  other  than  they  are,  I  could 
not  accept  it,"  said  Waring. 

"  The  horse,"  said  De  Vane,  "  came  from  my  own  place, 
and  his  blood  is  of  the  best  in  Virginia." 

"  Is  he  named  ?"  asked  Waring. 

"  Yes,"  said  De  Vane  ;  "  Ivanhoe — resembling  his  name 
sake  in  all  high  qualities." 

Waring  caressed  the  horse,  who  seemed  to  recognize 
him  as  a  friend,  by  that  subtle  instinct  which  animals 
often  exhibit,  and  from  that  hour  the  strongest  attachment 
grew  up  between  them. 

The  gentlemen  extended  their  walk  to  other  parts  of  the 
town,  and  entered  the  public  garden.  The  fine  evening 
drew  many  promenaders  to  its  walks,  and  among  them 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Clarendon.  De  Vaffe  advanced  to  speak 
with  them. 

"  We  welcome  you,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  grasping 
his  hand  warmly,  "to  your  home  and  to  your  friends." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  De  Vane.  "  I  am  most  happy 
to  meet  you  once  more,  and  to  see  Mrs.  Clarendon  in 
improved  health.  You  are  enjoying  this  pure  air,  I  hope, 
madam  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Clarendon ;  "  it  is  delightful,  and  I 
welcome  you  once  more  to  a  place  which  I  know  you  love 
so  well." 

De  Vane  bowed. 

"  I  think,  madam,"  said  Waring,  "  that  we  must  not 
suffer  him  to  wander  from  us  again.  We  all  felt  his 
absence." 

15* 


846  DE  VANE. 

"  Very  much,"  she  replied,  "  and  I  am  gratified  to  learn 
that  Mr.  De  Yane  is  to  make  this  place  his  home." 

"  That  is  quite  settled,  is  it,  De  Vane  ?"  asked  Mr.  Clar 
endon. 

"Quite  settled,"  he  replied.  "And  you  can  well  under 
stand  how  my  interest  in  the  place  deepens,  from  the  fact 
that  it  is  a  settled  question  that  this  is  to  be  my  residence." 

"  I  congratulate  you,  De  Vane,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon. 
"You  have  chosen  wisely.  Much  as  I  love  our  native 
State — the  glorious  Old  Dominion — I  know  no  place  in  the 
world  so  attractive  to  me  as  this  ;  and,  as  I  said  to  you 
some  time  since,  I  know  you,  and  I  am  confident  that  this 
is  the  place  for  you." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  De  Vane.  "  I  quite  agree  with  you ; 
and  you  will  allow  me  to  say,  that  the  wish  to  be  near  you 
was  one  of  the  chief  considerations  that  influenced  my 
decision  in  fixing  upon  this  place  as  my  home." 

Mr.  Clarendon  bowed. 

Mrs.  Clarendon  said :  "  Then,  Mr.  De  Vane,  we  shall 
hope  to  see  much  of  you.  You  must  come  to  us  as  you 
would  to  your  home.  I  think  Mr.  Clarendon  was  really 
unhappy  while  you  were  absent,  and  was  immensely  grati 
fied  when  he  learned,  through  Mr.  Waring,  that  after  a 
full  survey  of  your  ancestral  home,  you  had  decided  to 
return  to  us." 

"  I  am  very  much  gratified  to  hear  you  say  so,  madam," 
said  De  Vane.  ':Mr.  Clarendon  well  knows  how  much 
his  counsels  have  influenced  me." 

"  You  have  done  wisely,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  taking 
out  his  handsome  snuff-box,  and  extending  it  to  De  Vane. 
"  You  have  done  wisely,  sir,  and  time  will  prove  it." 

"  I  shall  reenter  the  office  on  Monday,"  said  De  Vane, 
"and  go  to  work.  My  vacation  has  been  quite  long 
enough." 


DE  VANE.  347 

"So  it  has,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "and  I  shall  expect 
you." 

"  In  the  mean  while,"  said  Mrs.  Clarendon,  "  we  shall 
hope  to  see  you." 

De  Vane  bowed. 

"  Come  with  him,  Professor  Waring,"  said  Mrs.  Clar 
endon. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Waring, "  I  shall  be  happy  to  do  so." 

Other  persons  approaching,  Waring  and  De  Vane  lifted 
their  hats  and  passed  on.  Seating  themselves,  at  the  end 
of  the  walk,  upon  one  of  the  benches,  they  surveyed  the 
animated  scene,  and  a  glow  of  the  highest  satisfaction 
overspread  De  Vane's  face. 

"  This  is  a  charming  place,  Waring,"  said  he.  "  I  really 
know  no  place  where  the  same  elegance  and  refinement 
are  to  be  found.  The  place  is  large  enough  to  be  free 
from  the  petty  annoyances  of  a  village,  and  it  is  not  so 
large  as  to  be  troubled  with  the  vices  of  a  city.  It  is  full, 
too,  of  animation ;  never  dull,  never  languid,  but  always 
cheerful." 

"  So  I  think,"  said  Waring  ;  "  and  my  attachment  to  it 
has  become  so  strong,  that  I  fear  I  could  not  live  with 
contentment  elsewhere." 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  De  Vane ;  "  that  is  not  to  be 
thought  of.  This  is  our  abiding  place." 

At  that  moment  the  gardener  came  up,  his  face  beaming, 
his  hat  in  his  hand,  and,  bowing  very  low  to  De  Vane,  said  : 

"  How  do  you  do,  sir  ?  I'm  very  glad  to  see  you  back 
once  more." 

"  Ah !  Mr.  Swan,  I'm  glad  to  see  you,"  said  De  Vane, 
shaking  hands  with  him.  "  How  have  you  been  through 
the  summer  ?" 

"  Very  well,  I  thank  you,  sir,"  he  replied.  "  You're 
looking  very  hearty." 

"  Oh !  yes,  thank  you,"  said  De  Vane,  "  my  health  is 


348  PE  VANE. 

excellent.  I  see  that  you  still  keep  your  garden  in  fine 
order." 

"  I'm  very  much  obliged  to  you,  sir,  for  saying  so.  Let 
me  cut  one  or  two  of  my  roses  for  you."  And  walking  to 
one  of  the  beds,  he  clipped  some  two  or  three  of  the  finest 
flowers,  and  returning  with  them,  handed  them  to  De 
Yane. 

"I  know  that  you  are  fond  of  flowers,  sir,"  he  said, 
"and  you  see  how  fine  these  are." 

"  Very  fine,  indeed.  Thank  you,"  said  De  Yane,  placing 
them  in  his  vest. 

"  And  you  will  stay  here  now,  sir  ?"  asked  the  gardener, 
with  real  interest. 

"  Yes,"  said  De  Yane ;  "  this  is  now  my  home,  and  I 
shall  be  often  a  visitor  to  your  garden." 

"You  will  always  be  welcome,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Swan, 
bowing  low ;  and  bidding  good  evening  to  the  gentlemen, 
he  walked  away. 

"  That  is  one  of  your  prime  favorites,  De  Yane,  I  believe  ?" 
said  Waring. 

"Yes,"  said  De  Yane,  "I  like  him.  He  is  a  capital 
gardener,  and  understands  his  business  thoroughly.  It 
would  surprise  you  to  hear  him  talk  of  botany." 

"  Your  friend  Hobbs,  the  blacksmith,  is  anxious  to  see 
you,"  said  Waring.  "He  has  asked  after  you  several 
times." 

"  Yes,"  said  De  Yane,  "  he  is  a  good  friend  of  mine,  and 
is  really  an  artist.  I  must  see  him,  and  get  him  to  look 
after  my  horses'  shoes  at  once." 

"  Let  us  take  a  turn  through  the  garden,"  said  Waring, 
"  and  then  return.  As  we  are  to  pass  the  evening  at  Mr. 
Springfield's,  let  us  go  early." 

Rising,  they  walked  through  a  serpentine  path,  and 
emerged,  at  the  end  of  it,  into  the  street.  They  met  a 
number  of  persons,  who  stopped  to  congratulate  De  Yane 


DE  VANE.  349 

upon  his  return,  and  when  they  reached  Mrs.  Bowen's, 
the  candles  were  already  lighted. 

"  Shall  we  go  before  taking  tea  ?"  asked  De  Vane. 

"  Oh  !  yes,"  said  Waring.  "  Mrs.  Springfield  will  cer 
tainly  expect  us." 

"  Then,"  said  De  Vane,  "  I  will  detain  you  but  a 
moment ;"  and  going  to  his  room  to  make  some  change 
in  his  dress,  Waring  explained  to  Mrs.  Bowen  that  they 
were  going  out  for  the  evening,  and  that  they  might  not 
return  very  early. 

"  Yery  well,"  said  Mrs.  Bowen.  "  I  understand.  And 
you  are  right  to  go  early,  for  I  know  that  Mr.  Springfield 
will  expect  you." 


CHAPTER    VI. 

"  SHE  is  most  fair,  and  thereunto 
Her  life  doth  rightly  harmonize  ; 
Feeling  or  thought  that  was  not  true 
Ne'er  made  less  beautiful  the  blue 
Unclouded  heaven  of  her  eyes." 

LOWELL. 

and  De  Vane  were  received  at  the  door  by  Mr. 
Springfield,  who  gave  the  young  Virginian  a  warm  wel 
come,  and  conducted  them  to  the  library.  Mrs.  Spring 
field  and  Esther  were  seated  near  a  bright  wood  fire, 
which  threw  its  cheerful  light  over  the  objects  in  the 
room,  and  tempered  the  cool  October  air.  The  picture 
warmed  De  Vane's  heart  instantly,  and  the  cheerful,  taste 
ful  elegance  of  the  room  recalled  the  past  vividly. 

Mrs.  Springfield  advanced  to  meet  him  with  cordial 
greetings,  and,  taking  his  hand,  said :  "  We  are  very  hap 
py  to  see  you,  Mr.  De  Vane ;  we  welcome  you  with  our 
hearts." 

De  Vane  bowed  very  low,  and  said :  "  I  shall  not  under 
take  to  say,  madam,  how  happy  I  am  to  return.  I  thank 
you  for  your  welcome." 

Esther  remained  standing  at  her  chair,  from  which  she 
had  risen  as  De  Vane  entered.  Never  had  she  appeared 
more  splendidly  be-  .*riml.  Her  face  was  radiant.  She 
was  dressed  in  rich  dark  colors :  and  in  her  hair  a  single 

'  O 

crimson  rose  was  worn,  lending  its  fragrance  and  beauty 
to  her  own  charms. 

De  Vane  advanced  to  her,  and  gave  her  his  hand,  say- 
(350) 


DE   VANE.  351 

ing  :  "  You  see,  Miss  Wordsworth,  that  I  have  made  good 
my  words.  I  have  really  been  able  to  resist  the  attrac 
tions  of  my  Virginia  home,  and  I  am  here  once  more." 

Esther  smiled  brightly,  and  said :  "  We  must  all  thank 
you,  Mr.  De  Vane,  for  your  loyalty  to  this  place.  Your 
friends  are  very  happy  to  see  you  here." 

Waring  observed  them  closely,  and  he  saw  how  earnest 
ly  they  both  spoke.  He  saw  the  mutual  consciousness 
when  their  eyes  met ;  and  he  did  not  doubt  from  that  mo 
ment  that  their  interest  in  each  other  was  too  deep  to  be 
evanescent.  For  good  or  for  evil  they  had  met,  and  all 
their  future  was  to  take  its  coloring  from  that  meeting. 
He  saw  this  with  blended  satisfaction  and  anxiety.  lie 
knew  both  De  Vane  and  Esther  well,  and  he  comprehend 
ed  how  many  perils  surrounded  their  path — the  aristo 
cratic  prejudice  of  General  De  Vane  ;  the  high  self-respect 
of  Esther,  and  her  firm  religious  sentiments,  both  of  which 
he  felt  would  be  able  to  control  her  action,  even  against 

5  O 

her  affections  ;  and  he  could  not  dismiss  from  his  own  heart 
a  troubled  interest  in  the  fortunes  of  two  beings  who 
were  so  dear  to  him. 

De  Vane  seated  himself,  and  said  :  "  I  can  never  be  other 
than  loyal  to  this  place  ;  it  is  now  my  home,  and  hence 
forth  I  am  bound  to  it  by  every  tie  of  interest  and  affec 
tion." 

"  Content  to  give  up  your  Virginia  mountains  ?"  said 
Waring  playfully. 

"  Reserving  the  privilege,"'  replied  De  Vane,  "  of  mak 
ing  them  an  occasional  visit." 

"  We  must  give  Mr.  De  Vane  the  greater  credit,"  said 
Esther,  "in  deciding  to  reside  her^ ,v«cause  he  has  given 
up  so  beautiful  a  country  as  the  moitucain  region  of  Vir 
ginia." 

"  Thank  you  for  your  generosity,"  said  De  Vane  ;  "  you 


352  DE  VANE. 

have  answered  Mr.  Waring  so  well  that  I  need  say  nothing 
more  in  vindication  of  myself." 

"  Mr.  Waring  knows,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  that  in 
fixing  upon  this  as  our  residence,  we  too,  yielded  up  much 
that  is  dear  to  us.  Georgia  is  a  great  State,  and  that  part 
of  it  where  we  resided  possesses  many  attractions." 

"  Yes,"  said  Waring,  "  I  have  often  said  so  to  Mr.  De 
Vane,  but  he  always  insisted  that  nothing  could  rival  the 
scenery  of  his  Virginia  home." 

"  I  remember,"  said  Esther,  "  that  he  was  very  eloquent 
in  praise  of  it,  some  months  since,  when  we  all  met  at 
Leasowes." 

"  Yes,"  said  De  Vane,  "  I  well  remember  the  conversa 
tion  ;  and  I  think  Mr.  Waring  was  equally  enthusiastic  in 
speaking  of  Georgia.  He  said  something  about  mount 
ains  and  cataracts,  and  seemed  somewhat  disposed  to  dis 
pute  the  claims  of  Niagara  to  possess  sublimity." 

"  Then,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield,  "  I  think  that  we  may 
all  congratulate  each  other  upon  finding  a  place  like  this, 
which  can  compensate  us  for  giving  up  homes  endeared  to 
us  by  early  associations,  and  the  charms  of  nature." 

"  Did  you  find  the  journey  a  pleasant  one,  Mr.  De 
Vane  ?"  asked  Mr.  Springfield. 

"  The  first  part  of  it  quite  otherwise,"  said  De  Vane. 
"  The  mountain  streams  were  so  much  swollen  as  to  im 
pede  my  progress  seriously,  but  after  that  I  enjoyed  the 
travel." 

"  You  did  not  take  the  stage-coach,  I  believe  ?"  said  Mr. 
Springfield. 

"  No,"  said  De  Vane  ;  "  I  traveled  with  my  own  horses, 
which  I  found  much  more  agreeable  to  me." 

"  Oh !  very  much  more  so,"   said  Mr.  Springfield. 

"  We  enjoyed  the  journey,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield, 
"  greatly.  We  found  every  part  of  it  agreeable  to  us. 
The  season  was  a  fine  one." 


DE  VANE.  353 

"And  the  most  agreeable  part  of  it,"  said  Esther,  "  was 
in  traversing  the  mountain  roads.  The  streams  were  clear 
and  beautiful,  and  we  drove  through  many  of  them,  the 
wheels  passing  over  the  graveled  beds,  without  the  slight 
est  obstruction.  We  found  the  farm-houses,  too,  positive 
ly  delightful  resting-places  :  the  coldest  water,  the  purest 
milk,  the  sweetest  butter,  and  the  most  delicious  fruits 
refreshed  us  after  the  day's  travel." 

"  And  the  cheapness  of  every  thing,"  said  Mr.  Spring 
field,  "  was  as  remarkable  as  its  quality.  We  had  four 
horses  and  our  servants,  and  I  could  travel  at  much  less 
expense  than  I  can  stay  at  home." 

"  That  is  remarkable,"  said  Waring.  "  I  found  it  so  in 
the  eastern  part  of  Tennessee,  a  country  singularly  beau 
tiful.  If  it  were  on  the  Continent  of  Europe,  it  would  be 
as  attractive  to  travelers  as  Switzerland." 

"  It  will  yet  become  so,"  said  De  Yane.  "  It  is  just  now 
somewhat  inaccessible,  and  at  times  almost  impassable. 
When  a  thunder-storm  overtakes  one,  in  some  of  those 
mountain  gorges,  miles  away  from  any  human  habitation, 
it  is  a  wild  sort  of  thing.  I  should  think  the  ladies  might 
find  it  inconvenient." 

"  We  encountered  one,"  said  Esther,  "  and  I  really  en 
joyed  it.  It  was  terrific,  but  yet  sublime.  And  it  recall 
ed  vividly  Lord  Byron's  description  of  a  storm  on  the 
Alps,  which  I  had  read  but  a  little  while  before." 

"  And  you  had  no  fear  ?"  asked  De  Vane. 

"  I  was  awed,"  said  Esther,  "  but  I  was  unconscious  of 
fear.  The  sublimity  of  the  scene  filled  my  soul.  And 
when  the  storm  passed  away,  and  the  sun  came  forth  in 
his  glory,  like  a  monarch  to  resume  his  throne  after  a  bat 
tle,  throwing  his  splendor  over  mountain-peaks,  and  fill 
ing  the  valley  through  which  we  drove  with  his  yellow 
beams,  I  felt  that  I  had  never  seen  any  thing  half  so 
lovely." 


354:  DE  VANE. 

De  Vane  listened  to  her  description  with  the  deepest  in 
terest.  Her  face  glowed  with  animation,  and  the  dark 
splendors  of  her  deep  blue  eyes  was  almost  dazzling. 

"  Had  you  any  shelter  to  protect  you  from  the  fury  of 
he  storm  ?"  asked  Waring. 

"  None  whatever,"  she  replied,  "  except  a  projecting 
rock  from  the  mountain-side,  which  actually  trembled  with 
the  reverberations,  and  heightened  the  effect  of  the  scene, 
making  one  realize  the  sublime  descriptions  of  the  pro 
phets,  which  represent  the  earth  as  conscious  of  the  dread 
majesty  of  its  Maker,  when  he  looks  upon  it,  and  touches 
the  hills." 

"  I  well  remember  it,"  said  Mr.  Springfield.  "  The  horses 
shook  with  fear,  and  it  was  no  easy  matter  to  control 
them." 

"  I  observed  the  same  effect  upon  mine,"  said  De  Vane ; 
"  and  they  could  only  be  restrained  from  breaking  away  by 
my  voice,  which  seemed  to  reiissure  them,  as  I  spoke  to 
them  in  firm,  cheerful  tones,  from  time  to  time.  They 
would  draw  nearer  to  me,  as  if  for  protection." 

"  Your  friend  and  my  friend,  Mrs.  Bowen,  seemed  very 
happy  that  you  have  arrived  safely,"  said  Mr.  Springfield, 
smiling. 

"  Oh  !  yes,"  said  De  Vane,  "  she  gave  me  a  warm  wel 
come  ;  and  upon  entering  my  room,  I  saw  that  I  had  not 
been  forgotten  during  my  absence." 

"  You  may  be  quite  sure  of  that,"  said  Waring.  "  I  think 
that  for  at  least  a  month  past  your  room  has  been  dusted 
every  morning,  just  as  if  you  were  ex'pected  by  sunset." 

They  all  laughed,  and  Mrs.  Springfield  said  :  "  She  is  a 
most  excellent  person,  and  you  are  fortunate,  Mr.  De  Vane, 
in  having  so  good  a  friend." 

"  So  I  think,  madam,"  said  De  Vane.  "  I  prize  her 
highly." 

"I  think,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "it  would  be  hard  for 


DE  VANE.  355 

her  to  decide  whether  she  was  more  partial  to  Mr.  De  Vane 
or  to  Mr.  Waring." 

"It  certainly  would,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield,  "for  she 
speaks  of  you  both  in  terms  which  imply  perfection  in 
Loth." 

"  She  is  really  very  kind,"  said  Waring  ;  "  and  I  have 
no  thought  of  leaving  her  hospitable  home  until  I  set  up 
my  own." 

"  And  have  you  decided  when  that  is  to  be  ?"  asked 
Mrs.  Springfield. 

"  Oh  !  no,"  said  Waring ;  "  that  is  yet  in  the  mists  of 
the  future." 

"And  will  only  be, disclosed,  I  suppose,"  said  De  Yane, 
"  when  the  Maid  of  the  Mist  reveals  herself  in  a  rainbow 
of  hope." 

-  "Ah  !"  said  Waring,  "  you  have  been  reading  Sir  Wal 
ter  Scott." 

"A  very  good  way  of  parrying  the  point,"  said  De 
Vane. 

"We  must  insist  upon  his  being  more  explicit,"  said 
Mrs.  Springfield. 

De  Vane  observed  that  Esther  heard  the  conversation, 
playful  as  it  was,  with  interest.  She  was  silent,  but 
aroused  and  attentive. 

"  Has  he  been  at  all  demonstrative  in  any  direction  since 
I  left,  Miss  Wordsworth  ?"  inquired  De  Vane. 

"  Have  I  Mr.  Waring's  permission,"  said  Esther,  "  to  re 
port  him  during  the  summer  ?" 

"  I  think,"  said  Waring,  "  that  we  should  first  call  upon 
Mr.  De  Vane  to  give  an  account  of  himself  during  his  ab 
sence.  It  is  usual  for  travelers  to  entertain  their  friends 
upon  their  return  home  with  a  recital  of  their  adventures. 
That,  at  least,  is  the  classical  style,  and  so  true  a  friend  to 
the  classics  as  Mr.  De  Vane,  can  not,  I  am  sure,  resist  the 
examples  of  Ulysses  and  ^Eneas." 


356  DE  VANE. 

"  It  would  require  a  summer's  day  or  a  winter's  evening 
at  least,"  said  De  Vane,  "  to  relate  my  adventures,  and  I 
insist  that  so  simple  a  thing  as  a  reply  to  my  question 
might  be  disposed  of  at  once.  The  adroitness  of  my  friend 
in  turning  the  examination  from  himself  to  me  rather 
heightens  my  interest  in  the  subject." 

"  So  soon  as  you  obtain  Mr.  Waring's  permission,"  said 
Esther,  "  I  shall  be  happy  to  relate  all  that  I  know  of  his 
adventures  during  the  summer." 

"  We  will  wait,"  said  Waring,  "  until  we  go  out  for  an 
evening's  ride,  and  then  you  are  at  liberty  to  give  an  ac 
count  to  Mr.  De  Vane  of  our  summer  doings,  provided  he 
in  the  mean  while  shall  enlighten  us  as  to  his  own  move 
ments." 

"  What  if  I  have  nothing  to  disclose  ?"  said  De  Vane. 

"  That  supposition  is  hardly  to  be  tolerated,"  said  War 
ing.  "  Virginia  the  place  and  Mr:  De  Vane  the  man,  these 
two  being  known  to  us,  we  can  not  permit  ourselves  to 
believe  that  three  months  could  pass  by  without  events 
well  worthy  to  be  recounted." 

"  The  proposition  is  stated  in  a  very  scholarly  way," 
said  De  Vane,  "  and  is  so  complimentary  to  me,  that  if 
there  were  any  thing  of  interest  .to  relate,  I  should  at  once, 
like  JEneas  in  the  presence  of  the  Carthaginian  queen,  be 
gin  the  narration.  But  mine  was  a  simple  visit  to  an  old 
home,  where  I  wandered  upon  the  mountains  and  roamed 
through  the  forests,  and  saw  some  few  friends  of  the  fami 
ly,  and  almost  felt  myself  a  boy  once  more." 

"  Some  fair  ladies,  of  course,  you  met,"  said  Waring. 

"  Yes,"  said  De  Vane,  "  the  Guilfords,  of  whom  you 
have  heard  me  speak,  and  the  Hamiltons,  who  reside  near 
us." 

"  I  remember  that  you  spoke  of  the  Hamiltons  in  one  of 
your  letters,"  said  Waring. 

"  They  are  charming  people,"  said  De  Vane ;  "  much  the 


DE   VANE.  357 

most  agreeable  I  met.  Elegance  without  pretension,  wealth 
without  pride,  piety  without  bigotry,  accomplishments 
without  folly — these  are  their  characteristics." 

"  They  must  be  charming,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield.  "  I 
have  heard  Bishop  Me  Kendree  speak  of  them  in  similar 
terms." 

"  They  are  dear  friends  of  the  Bishop,  I  know,  madam," 
said  De  Vane.  "  They  have  a  son  at  this  time  in  Europe, 
at  the  University  at  Heidelberg.  Two  daughters  are  with 
them.  The  elder  of  the  two — about  eighteen  years  of  age,  I 
suppose — is  faultlessly  beautiful,  and  resembling  Miss  Go- 
dolphin  so  closely  that  I  was  constantly  reminded  of  her." 

"  She  must  indeed  be  beautiful,"  said  Esther. 

"  Very  much  so,"  said  De  Vane. 

"  You  spoke  of  the  Guilfords,"  said  Waring. 

"  Yes,"  said  De  Vane,  "  they  are  intimate  with  my  aunt, 
Mrs.  De  Vane,  and  I  saw  them  often." 

"  I  have  heard  Miss  Godolphin  describe  Miss  Clara  Guil- 
ford  as  very  beautiful  and  accomplished,"  said  Waring. 

"  She  is  so,"  said  De  Vane,  "  highly  so.  A  more  bril 
liant  person  one  rarely  meets,  and  she  possesses  the  quality 
of  preserving  her  American  habits,  notwithstanding  her 
very  decided  taste  for  European  life.  She  rides  on  horse 
back,  over  mountains'  and  plains,  in  the  most  fearless  way, 
and  I  found  it  actually  exhilarating  to  accompany  her  in 
some  of  her  daring  feats.  We  rode  one  morning,  after  a 
very  early  breakfast,  to  Monticello,  Mr.  Jefferson's  seat, 
and  finding  one  of  the  gates  which  lay  in  our  way  fastened, 
she  dreAV  back  a  few  steps,  and  dashing  forward,  leaped 
the  fence,  her  horse  clearing  it  magnificently.  I,  of  course, 
followed,  and  found  it  somewhat  of  an  exploit." 

"  Fine,"  said  Waring,  "fine;  and  yet  she  prefers  Europe 
to  America  ?" 

"  She  prefers  England,"  said  De  Vane,  "  and  I  think  she 
will  never  live  in  this  country  with  any  thing  like  satis- 


358  DE   VANE. 

faction.  She  is  thoroughly  aristocratic,  and  has  many 
near  relatives  in  England — some  of  them  of  very  high 
rank." 

"  She  is  very  unlike  Miss  Godolphin,  then,"  said  Esther 
"  She  is  wholly  American,  and  yet  I  believe  is  nearly  re 
lated  to  some  of  the  noble  families  of  England." 

"  And  I  admire  her  for  it,"  said  De  Yane.  "  Miss  Go- 
dolphin  is  a  superior  person." 

"  She  is  indeed,"  said  Esther.  "  I  have  been  much  with 
her  through  the  summer,  and  I  have  learned  to  love  her  as 
much  as  I  admire  her.  She  will  be  very  much  pleased  to 
meet  you,  Mr.  De  Vane." 

"  I  shall  take  an  early  day  to  call  on  her,"  said  De  Yane. 
"  I  bear  messages  to  her  from  Miss  Guilford,  which  I  must 
deliver  in  person." 

"  They  met  in  Europe,  I  believe,"  said  Esther.  "  I  have 
heard  Miss  Godolphin  speak  of  her." 

"  They  were  much  together  while  abroad,"  said  De 
Yane,  "  and  under  circumstances  of  extraordinary  interest. 
Miss  Guilford  gave  me  an  extended  account  of  their 
travels." 

"  And  yet,"  said  Waring,  "  the  one  returns  to  this  coun 
try  estranged  from  home,  while  the  other  loves  it  more 
intensely  than  ever." 

"  Miss  Godolphin,"  said  De  Yane,*-"  is  a  person  of  great 
depth  of  character.  She  has  had  a  large  experience  of  life 
for  one  so  young,  and  it  has  not  resulted  in  making  her 
artificial,  but  rather  in  deepening  and  strengthening  the 
nobler  qualities  of  her  nature." 

"  Is  not  that  a  common  experience  ?"  said  Esther. 

"  I  think  not,"  said  De  Yane.  "  Yery  much  depends 
upon  organization,4 however.  A  noble  poet — Lord  Byron — • 
tells  us, 

'  The  tree  of  knowledge  is  not  that  of  life.' 


DE  VANE.  359 

His  doctrine  is  that  a  knowledge  of  the  world  exposes  its 
heartlessness,  and  disgusts  us  with  life." 

"  A  life  of  dissipation,  a  life  passed  amidst  scenes  which 
ignore  the  restraints  of  Christianity  and  civilization  alike, 
must  disgust  us  with  the  world,"  said  Waring,  "  because 
it  first  disgusts  us  with  ourselves.  It  is  a  sorrow  that 
worketh  death." 

"That  is  a  very  harsh  judgment  upon  the  noble  poet," 
said  De  Vane.  "  I  firmly  believe  that  Byron  was  sadly 
sinned  against.  The  truth  is,  when  society  rises  up  against 
a  man  who  has  violated  some  of  its  conventionalisms,  it  is 
terrific  in  its  persecution.  I  regard  the  whole  history  of 
Lord  Byron's  life  with  compassion.  He  felt  that  his  race 
was  making  war  upon  him,  and  he  replied  to  their  assaults 
with  scorn  and  indignation.  But  there  breaks  through  all 
this,  at  times,  the  cry  of  a  wounded  spirit.  Is  it  not  his 
own  sadness  that  he  describes  in  those  lines  of  inconsolable 
sorrow,  too  deep  for  the  ministering  tenderness  of  heaven 
or  earth  to  read — 

1  It  is  that  settled  ceaseless  gloom 

The  fabled  Hebrew  wanderer  bore, 
Which  will  not  look  beyond  the  tomb, 
Yet  dares  not  hope  for  rest  before'  ?  " 

"  It  is  dreadful,"  said  Esther.  "  What  wretchedness  that 
must  be  which  neither  heaven  nor  earth  can  minister  to  ! 
I  confess  that  I  am  strongly  disposed  to  pity  Lord  Byron. 
Such  genius,  such  unhappiness,  such  a  splendid  wreck  so 
early  in  life !  There  was  great  tenderness  in  his  nature. 
It  seems  to  have  been  perverted  by  the  misguiding  hand 
of  his  own  mother." 

"  Yes,"  said  De  Vane,  "  your  judgment  is  just.  If  he 
had  married  differently,  his  life  would  have  been  a  dif 
ferent  one.  His  wife  is  evidently  a  cold  person — wholly 


360  DE  VANE. 

under  the  dominion  of  the  rules  of  society,  which  are  called 
practical,  too  often  but  another  name  for  selfishness.  The 
mother  and  the  wife  both  helped  to  ruin  him.  There  was 
no  sympathy  with  his  real  nature,  and  his  infirmities  grew 
to  be  crimes  against  society." 

"  And  do  you  believe,"  said  Waring,  "  that  there  was 
any  real  tenderness  in  his  nature  ?  He  was  harsh  and  vin 
dictive.  The  rules  of  society  which  he  violated,  are  essen 
tial  to  its  protection." 

"There  certainly  was  great  tenderness  in  his  nature," 
said  Esther.  "  The  opening  lines  of  one  of  the  cantos  of 
his  Childe  Harold  attest  it  unmistakably  : 

'  Ada,  sole  daughter  of  my  house  and  heart, 
Is  thy  face  like  thy  mother's, 
My  fair  child  ?' 

It  has  been  some  time  since  I  read  the  lines,  but  I  believe 
I  quote  them  correctly;  and  I  Avell  remember  how  this 
blending  of  the  names  of  daughter  and  mother  affected 
me  when  I  read  them,  and  thought  of  his  exile  and  his 
desolateness — destined  never  again  to  see  wife  or  child." 

De  Vane  heard  this  beautiful,  pure  being  vindicate  the 
claims  of  the  noble  but  ruined  man  to  the  forbearance  of 
society,  and  the  tender  judgment  of  a  world  that  survived 
him,  with  the  deepest  admiration  for  her  courage  and  her 
truth ;  and  even  Waring  found  his  heart  touched  with  a 
new  sympathy  for  the  man  whose  genius  he  had  admired, 
but  whose  course  he  unsparingly  condemned,  because  he 
thought  it  likely  to  mislead  others. 

A  servant  entered,  and  announced  to  Mrs.  Springfield 
that  supper  was  on  the  table.  And  De  Vane,  giving  his 
arm  to  Esther,  said : 

"We  must,  at  some  future  time,  renew  this  discussion." 

"  Then,"  said  Waring,  as  they  took  their  seats,  "  1  must 
find  an  ally  in  Miss  Godolphin.  If  I  do  not  misinterpret  a 


DE   VANE.  361 

remark  of  hers,  she  will  join  me  in  condemnation  of  the 
noble  poet." 

"  I  have  the  impression,"  said  De  Vane,  "  that  she  has 
seen  him.  I  am  very  sure  that  she  is  familiar  with  his 
history.  And  I  think  Miss  Guilford  informed  me  that 
Miss  Godolphin  had  met  Lord  Byron,  when  she  was  very 
young." 

"The  critics  have  treated  him  with  such  unfairness," 
said  Mr.  Springfield,  "that  I  find  myself  strongly  inclined 
io  search  for  some  ground  upon  which  a  man  of  such 
splendid  abilities  may  be  vindicated  against  his  accusers." 

"  His  reply  to  the  .critics,"  said  Waring,  "  makes  one 
half  inclined  to  pity  them." 

"  It  is  somewhat  strange,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  that 
Sir  Walter  Scott  not  only  admired  Lord  Byron,  but  felt  * 
for  him  a  sincere  friendship."  , 

"  Yes,"  said  De  Vane,  "  and  Lord  Byron  felt  a  true  re 
gard  for  Sir  Walter ;  and  their  friendship  is  in  itself  a 
proof  that  Lord  Byron  possessed  redeeming  qualities ;  for 
Sir  Walter  Scott  was  a  pure  man,  and  no  friendship  could 
have  existed  on  his  part  toward  any  man  totally  aban 
doned." 

"  So  I  think,"  said  Mr.  Springfield. 

"  Miss  Godolphin,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield,  "  went  to  Eu 
rope  some  five  or  six  years  since,  and  she  may  have  met 
Lord  Byron." 

"Yes,"  said  De  Vane.  "He  was  then  in  Italy,  project 
ing  his  enterprise  in  behalf  of  the  Greeks ;  and  I  know 
that  some  persons,  very  nearly  related  to  Miss  Godolphin, 
accompanied  him  into  Greece." 

Esther  fixed  her  eyes  searchingly  upon  De  Vane's  face, 
as  if  she  would  read  his  whole  meaning.  It  was  clear  that 
he  had  touched  a  topic  which  interested  her,  one  in  some 
way  connected  with  the  history  of  Miss  Godolphin ;  and 
she  waited  with  anxiety  to  see  if  he  would  add  any  thing 
10 


362  DE  VANE. 

which  might  make  it  plain  that  he  was  acquainted  with  it. 
But  he  said  nothing  more. 

"  She  was  the  brightest  young  person  at  that  timej"  said 
Mrs.  Springfield,  "that  I  had  ever  known.  Animated, 
vivacious,  joyous  ;  and  so  young,  yet  so  cultivated.  She 
is  even  more  beautiful  now  than  she  was  then,  for  her  ex 
treme  youth  was  full  of  promise  only,  which  has  now  ma 
tured  into  perfection.  She  is  splendidly  beautiful,  but 
there  is  a  shadow  upon  her  brightness  which  I  do  not 
comprehend." 

De  Vane  said  not  a  word. 

Mr.  Springfield  said :  "  I  think  Miss  Go  dolphin  is  fast 
regaining  her  cheerfulness.  She  may  have  lost  some  near 
relative  abroad,  which  plunged  her  into  grief;  but  what 
ever  may  have  caused  her  sadness,  it  is  evidently  passing 
away." 

"  Yes,  I  think  so,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield. 

"  Did  you  carry  out  your  purpose,  Miss  Wordsworth," 
asked  De  Vane,  "  of  taking  rides  in  the  saddle  ?" 

"  Oh  !  yes,"  she  replied.  I  was  in  the  country  for  some 
time  with  Miss  Godolphin,  and  it  was  our  habit  to  ride  on 
horseback  daily." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Waring.  "  I  am  happy  to  be  able  to 
assure  you  that  the  ladies  both  ride  excellently.  They,  of 
course,  ride  with  grace,  and  they  manage  their  steeds  with 
admirable  skill." 

"I  must  thank  you,"  said  Esther.  "I  can  assure  you, 
Mr.  De  Vane,  that  it  is  more  than  Mr.  Waring  ever  said 
to  us." 

"  I  am  bound  to  make  a  faithful  report  to  my  friend, 
Mr.  De  Vane,"  said  Waring,  "  of  your  progress  during  his 
absence.  I  think  I  promised  something  of  the  kind,  did  I 
not?" 

Esther's  conscious  blush  was  her  only  reply;  but  De 
Vane  said : 


DE   VANE.  363 

"  I  believe  it  was  understood  that  you  were  to  keep  me 
informed  of  events  that  interested  our  friends ;  but  he 
really  wrote  so  rarely,  Miss  Wordsworth,  that  I  did  not 
know  but  I  might  be  forgotten  before  my  return." 

"  Wrote  so  rarely,  indeed  !"  said  Waring.  "  I  think  I 
wrote  punctually,  every  Thursday  morning ;  but  I  was 
absolutely  neglected.  Whether  I  must  attribute  it  to 
politics,  or  to  the  Virginia  ladies,  or  whatever  else,  I  can 
not  say ;  but  I  received  only  some  two  or  three  letters 
from  him  through  the  whole  summer." 

"You  know,  Waring,"  said  De  Vane,  "how  unjust  that 
accusation  is.  I  assure  you,  Mrs.  Springfield,  that  I  was 
so  engrossed  with  business,  that  I  found  but  little  leisure 
for  writing  to  friends ;  for  when  I  was  disengaged  from 
actual  occupation,  I  found  it  necessary  to  ramble  through 
the  woods  to  refresh  myself.  It  would  have  been  any 
thing  but  a  kindness  to  inflict  letters  upon  a  friend,  written 
in  moments  of  weariness.  And  besides  this,  I  was  for  some 
weeks  engaged  in  a  struggle  to  free  myself  from  restraints 
about  me,  which  threatened  to  become  life-long,  unless  I 
was  vigorous  in  resisting  them ;  and  it  would  have  been 
selfish  to  write  under  circumstances,  when  I  must  have  re 
cited  to  a  friend  what  would  not  have  been  agreeable  to 
him." 

"  We  are  so  happy  to  have  you  with  us  again,  Mr.  De 
Vane,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield,  "  that  we  may  very  well  ex 
cuse  your  silence,  while  engaged  in  preparations  for  your 
return." 

"  So  I  think,"  said  Mr.  Springfield. 

"  Well,"  said  Waring,  "  as  a  general  amnesty  seems  to 
be  agreed  on,  I  shall  not  be  so  unamiable  as  to  disturb  it." 

"  I  hope,"  said  De  Vane,  "  that  the  horseback  riding  is 
not  to  be  relinquished." 

"By  no  means,"  said  Esther.  "We  must  enjoy  this 
fine  season.  The  evenings  are  cool  and  bracing."  . 


364  DE  VANE. 

"  I  shall  enjoy  the  rides  more  than  I  have  ever  done," 
said  Waring  ;  "  for  my  friend,  Mr.  De  Vane,  has  generous 
ly  brought  me  from  Yirginia  a  very  fine  horse." 

"  That  is  a  treasure,"  said  Mr.  Springfield. 

"  Does  he  equal  Manfred  ?"  asked  Esther. 

"  I  think  he  does,  fully,"  said  Waring ;  "  and  that  is 
high  praise,  you  know." 

"  Manfred  ?"  said  De  Vane.  "  I  have  not  the  honor  of 
his  acquaintance." 

"  No,"  said  Waring ;  "  he  arrived  after  your  departure. 
He  is  Miss  Wordsworth's  Arabian." 

"  Then  I  hope  soon  to  be  introduced  to  him.  Is  he  an 
Arabian  ?"  said  De  Vane. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  and  a  very  fine  animal. 
Having  a  decided  taste  for  horses,  I  have  taken  great  trou 
ble  to  secure  the  best  breeds  ;  and  I  have  bestowed  the 
same  care  on  Esther's  plantation  that  I  have  on  my  own. 
We  own  several  imported  horses,  and  among  them  is 
Manfred." 

"  I  sympathize  strongly  with  your  taste,"  said  De  Vane. 
"  I  must  show  you  two  of  my  own  horses.  They  are  of 
our  very  best  blood,  imported  into  Virginia  from  England, 
and  I  think  an  improvement  on  the  original  stock." 

"  They  are  very  fine,"  said  Waring  ;  "  but  I  think  that 
Mr.  De  Vane,  with  his  accustomed  generosity,,  has  present 
ed  to  me  the  finest  of  the  three." 

"  I  am  glad  that  you  think  so,"  said  De  Vane  ;  "  but  it 
would  be  no  easy  task  to  decide  between  the  rival  claims 
of  three  animals  really  so  fine." 

"  I  shall  take  great  pleasure  in  seeing  them,"  said  Mi. 
Springfield.  "  The  taste  for  fine  horses  is  one  which  I 
think  grows  on  us.  I  doubt  if  we  ever  lose  it.  I  believe 
that  Esther  has  it  as  intensely  as  I  have." 

"  I  believe  so,"  said  Esther.     "  I  care  little  for  fine  car- 


DE  VANE.  365 

riages,  or  luxurious  vehicles  of  any  shape.  I  like  them 
simply  neat.  But  I  do  love  fine  horses." 

"  You  are  very  unlike  the  Spanish  ladies,  then,"  said 
De  Yane.  "  They  rejoice  in  splendid  equipages — the  har 
ness  loaded  with  plate  —  and  content  themselves  with 
mules  to  draw  them." 

"  Some  of  them  are  very  fine,  though,"  said  Waring. 
"  The  Andalusian  race  is  said  to  rival  the  finest  horses." 

"  Nothing,"  said  De  Vane,  *c  can  ever  rival  a  blooded 
horse  ;  and  I  could  not  be  induced  either  to  ride  or  drive 
any  other.  But  we  must  arrange  for  an  equestrian  excur 
sion  very  soon,  Miss  Wordsworth." 

"  With  pleasure,"  said  Esther.  "  But  we  must  first  see 
Miss  Godolphin." 

"  Of  course,"  said  De  Yane.  "  When  shall  we  call,  Mr. 
Waring  ?" 

"  At  any  moment  that  it  may  be  agreeable  to  you,"  said 
Waring. 

« Very  good,"*  replied  De  Yane.  "  Then  it  shall  be 
early." 

"  You  will  find  Mr.  Waring,"  said  Esther,  "  ready  to 
accompany  you,  I  am  sure,  at  any  time." 

"  Ah  !  he  is  not  reluctant,  then,  to  place  himself  in  dan 
ger,"  said  De  Yane. 

"He  has  shown  some  courage  in  that  way  during  the 
summer,"  said  Esther,  "  and  I  suppose  has  lost  nothing  of 
his  spirit." 

"  I  think,  Professor,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  that  your 
friends  are  so  much  interested  in  you,  they  observe  your 
movements." 

"  I  regard  it  as  a  compliment,"  said  Waring ;  "  and  I 
frankly  admit  that  one  who  visits  Miss  Godolphin  often, 
will  find  it  no  easy  task  to  remain  indifferent  to  her 
charms  ;  but  I  have  so  long  escaped  danger,  that  I  am  not 
easily  alarmed." 


366  DE  VANE. 

"Take  care,  Mr.  Waring,"  said  Mrs. '  Springfield.  "I 
think  Miss  Godolphin  very  fascinating."*' 

"  I  freely  confess  that,"  said  Waring. 

"  No  one  can  dispute  it  who  knows  her,"  said  De  Vane. 
"  She  is  very  attractive." 

"  She  has  made  a  great  impression  since  her  return  from 
Europe,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield.  "  I  hear  every  one  speak 
of  her  in  terms  of  the  highest  admiration." 

"  The  real  nobleness  of  her  nature  can  only  be  appre 
ciated  by  those  who  know  her  well,"  said  Esther. 

"  And  has  Mr.  Waring  learned  to  know  her  well  ?" 
asked  De  Yane. 

"  He  must  answer  for  himself,"  said  Esther.  "  He  cer 
tainly  has  had  the  opportunity  to  learn  her  real  char 
acter." 

"  Come,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield,  "  I  shall  protest  against 
Professor  Waring's  being  so  closely  pressed." 

"  Thank  you,  madam,"  said  Waring.  "  It  is  not  the 
first  time  you  have  shown  yourself  my  friend." 

"  Mrs.  Springfield  has  rescued  you  at  a  very  critical 
conjuncture,"  said  De  Vane,  laughing.  "At  some  time, 
Miss  Wordsworth,  we  must  attack  him  when  he  is  not 
supported  by  his  allies." 

Rising,  they  returned  to  the  library,  where  the  conver 
sation  became  general,  turning  upon  the  state  of  the  coun 
try,  at  that  time  much  excited  by  the  presidential  can 
vass,  just  drawing  toward  its  close. 

After  some  time,  De  Vane  requested  Esther  to  give  them 
some  music  ;  and  conducting  her  to  the  piano,  she  took 
up  some  new  sheets  of  music,  which  had  been  placed  there 
that  day  for  the  first  time. 

"  What  shall  I  sing,  Mr.  De  Vane  ?"  asked  Esther.       .;_•£ 

"  You  must  do  me  the  favor  to  make  your  own  selec 
tion,"  he  replied. 

"  Then,"  she  said,  "  I  will  sing  one  of  the  songs  of  Lord 


DE  VANE.  367 

Byron,  of  whom  we  have  just  been  speaking.  I  never  saw 
the  music  before  to-day,  but  it  rivals  the  lines,  and  that 
is  great  praise." 

"Ah  !  and  what  are  the  lines  ?"  asked  De  Vane. 

"  They  are  one  of  the  Hebrew  melodies  of  the  noble 
poet ;  sad,  of  course,  but  exquisitely  tender  and  beauti 
ful,"  said  Esther.  "  He  calls  them  Herod's  Lament  for 
Mariamne ;  and  they  are  founded  upon  the  account  in 
Jewish  history  of  the  murder  of  that  beautiful  woman,  by 
a  misinterpreted  order  of  Herod,  upon  his  departure  for 
battle." 

She  sang  the  lines  with  matchless  pathos,  giving  to 
them  a  depth  and  tenderness  which  were  irresistible. 
"When  she  erased,  every  one  in  the  room  was  in  tears,  De 
Vane  striving  in  vain  to  repress  his  emotion. 

"  Wonderful !"  exclaimed  Waring.  "  Absolutely  won 
derful  !  I  never  comprehended  the  anguish  which  Herod 
must  have  felt,  until  now.  It  is  the  saddest  incident  in 
history — the  murder  of  the  beautiful  Mariamne,  and  the 
impotent  rage  and  self-accusing  remorse  of  Herod  upon  his 
return." 

"  I  do  not  know,"  said  De  Vane,  "  whether  the  lines  or 
the  music  affect  us  most.  There  is  wonderful  pathos  in 
both.  Thanks,  Miss  Wordsworth :  I  have  once  more  heard 
music" 

.Esther  rose  from  the  instrument,  and  soon  after  the 
gentlemen  took  their  leave. 

"Waring,"  said  De  Vane,  "Miss  Wordsworth  is  the 
most  extraordinary  person  I  have  ever  known.  Her  ac 
complishments  alone  would  make  her  peerless  ;  but  when 
you  regard  her  character,  she  is  absolutely  wonderful.  I 
have  compared  her  with  others,  and  when  absent  from  her, 
thought  that  some  might  rival  her  in  personal  charms  and 
accomplishments ;  but  since  I  have  seen  her  once  more,  I 


36S  DE  VANE. 

do  not  hesitate  to  pronounce  her  superior  to  any  woman 
on  earth." 

"  I  am  not  surprised  to  hear  you  speak  of  her  in  such 
terms,"  said  Waring.  "  She  is  a  very  lovely  person,  and 
her  whole  life  is  as  remarkable  as  her  beauty  and  her  ac 
complishments." 

"  You  heard  me  speak  of  Miss  Guilford  this  evening," 
said  De  Vane.  "  It  was  the  aim  of  my  aunt  to  bring  about 
our  marriage.  Her  soul  was  interested  in  it.  I  never 
witnessed  so  intense  a  desire  on  the  part  of  any  one  to  ac 
complish  an  object;  and  we  were  thrown  with  each  other 
on  every  occasion.  We  rode  together,  walked  together,  read 
the  same  books,  conversed  without  reserve ;  each  studied 
the  other ;  and  I  found  her  a  splendidly  beautiful  and  ac 
complished  woman.  She  evidently  regarded  me  as  lawful 
spoil,  and  looked  upon  me  as  her  captive  from  the  first 
hour  we  met.  But  while  she  interested  me,  and  filled  me 
with  admiration,  my  heart  was  as  tranquil  as  if  I  had  been 
studying  a  historical  personage,  or  looking  daily  upon  a 
being  of  another  realm,  with  whom  it  was  impossible  to 
feel  a  living  sympathy." 

"  I  felt  a  little  nervous  about  you,"  said  Waring,  "  though 
I  said  nothing  of  it  in  my  letters  to  you." 

"  There  was  not  the  slightest  occasion  for  it,"  said  De 
Yane.  "  My  aunt,  who  is  really  a  noble  woman,  at  length 
became  satisfied  that  I  could  never  love  Clara  Guilford ; 
and  she  has  too  much  heart  to  wish  me  to  marry  one  whom 
I  could  not  love,  so  that  she  reluctantly  relinquished  her 
.scheme.  She  then  spoke  to  me  about  Miss  Wordsworth, 
remarking  that  I  had  written  of  her  in  glowing  terms, 
and  that  she  feared  for  me.  She  spoke  with  kindness,  but 
perfect  frankness,  and  said  that  it  would  make  my  father 
very  unhappy  if  he  supposed  it  possible  th&t  I  could  ever 
form  such  a  connection ;  that  she  knew  he  would  never 
require  me  to  marry  any  woman  who  was  distasteful  to 


DE  VANE. 

me ;  but  that  she  was  equally  sure  he  would  never  give 
his  consent  to  my  marrying  any  one  at  all  inferior 'to  me 
in  social  position.  Wealth  he  cared  nothing  about.  We 
had  that.  But  social  position  he  did  value.  I  then  gave 
-my  aunt  an  account  of  Miss  Wordsworth  throughout ; 
described  her  as  she  is — her  beauty  of  person,  her  accom 
plishments,  her  intellect,  her  character,  her  self-sacrificing 
life,  her  freshness,  her  soul.  In  short,  I  said  to  her  all  that 
you  can  imagine  I  would  say  of  such  a  woman ;  and  I  saw 
that  my  aunt  was  interested.  '  But  Ihen,'  said  she,  '  she 
is  a  Methodist,  and  the  daughter  of  a  Methodist  preacher, 
and  your  father  will  never  tolerate  that.'  I  insisted  that 
such  a  prejudice  was  unworthy  of  any  one,  and  that  I  was 
sure  my  father  was  too  noble  to  suffer  it  to  sway  him,  if 
he  could  but  know  Miss  Wordsworth.  I  spoke  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Springfield,  and  of  yourself,  Waring ;  and  she 
became  deeply  interested.  From  day  to  day  she  spoke  of 
the  matter  to  me ;  asked  minutely  about  Miss  Words 
worth,  and,  indeed,  about  you  all ;  and  I  saw  that  she 
was  fast  coining  over  to  my  side.  She  has  great  con 
fidence  in  two  things — my  pride  and  my  truthfulness. 
Miss  Guilford  had  described  Miss  Godolphin  to  my  aunt, 
and  when  she  found  that  she  was  intimate  with  Miss 
Wordsworth,  who  was  at  that  time  actually  her  guest,  as 
you  wrote  me,  it  effected  quite  a  revolution  in  her  senti 
ments.  I  said  to  my  aunt  that  I  felt  the  greatest  interest 
in  Miss  Wordsworth,  but  that  I  had  never  made  up  my 
own  mind  in  regard  to  our  future  relations,  and  that,  of 
course,  I  had  never  spoken  to  her  on  the  subject,  nor  could 
I  know  how  she  regarded  me.  My  aunt  seemed  to  fancy 
that  Miss  Wordsworth  was  too  much  engrossed  with  her 
benevolent  and  romantic  scheme,  as  she  called  it,  at  Lea- 
sowes,  ever  to  relinquish  it,  and  that  she  could  not  make 
any  man  a  good  wife,  unless  she  abandoned  it,  so  far,  at 
least,  as  to  intrust  it  to  others.  But  I  became  satisfied 
16* 


370  DE  VANE. 

that  I  should  find  a  warm  supporter  in  Mrs.  De  Vane,  if 
it  ever  became  necessary  to  appeal  to  her,  in  a  contest 
with  my  father,  respecting  Miss  Wordsworth. 

"  I  have  spoken  to  you,  Waring,  with  great  frankness. 
My  interview  with  Miss  Wordsworth  has  reawakened  all 
my  interest  in  her.  She  is  transcendently  lovely  ;  and  she 
is  the  only  woman  who  really  ever  made  any  impression 
upon  my  heart." 

In  their  conversation,  they  had  unconsciously  extended 
their  walk  far  beyond  their  lodgings.  They  stood  now 
near  the  College  grounds ;  and  the  scattered  lights  in  the 
windows  showed  that  some  of  the  students  were  yet  busy 
with  their  books. 

"  De  Vane,"  said  Waring,  "  I  am  very  glad  that  you 
have  spoken  to  me.  From  the  first  day  that  we  met  each 
other  within  those  walls,  that  now  stand  out  against  the 
starlit  sky,  I  have  felt  an  interest  in  you,  which  has  deep 
ened  into  unchanging  friendship.  My  regard  for  Miss 
Wordsworth  is  as  great  as  it  is  for  yourself.  Never  until 
this  evening,  did  I  comprehend  the  nature  of  the  interest 
which  you  feel  in  her.  Allow  me  to  say,  that  when  you 
met,  I  observed  you,  and  I  became  satisfied  instantly,  that 
what  I  had  supposed  might  be  only  admiration,  was  some 
thing  deeper  and  intenser.  It  has  filled  me  with  anxiety. 
I  speak  frankly  ;  for  I  am  too  deeply  interested  in  you  to 
speak  with  indifference,  or  in  the  language  of  complaint. 
You  might  well  hope  to  interest  any  woman.  But  there 
are  great  barriers  between  yourself  and  Miss  Wordsworth. 
She  is  as  proud  as  you  are.  A  loftier  spirit  I  never  knew. 
She  would  suffer  martyrdom  rather  than  yield  to  a  sen 
timent  which  she  thought  should  be  checked  and  re 
strained." 

"  But  what  barriers  can  there  be  ?"  exclaimed  De  Vane 
impatiently. 

"  The  aristocratic  position  and  unyielding  prejudices  of 


DE   VANE.  371 

General  De  Yane,  and  your  own  want  of  sympathy  with 
the  religious  views  of  Miss  Wordsworth." 

De  Yane  was  silent.  He  put  his  arm  in  that  of  Waring, 
and  they  retraced  their  steps. 

Rising  clouds  swept  over  the  heavens.  The  whole 
Southern  sky  was  dark,  and  as  the  night-breeze  strength 
ened,  the  stars  began  to  disappear.  In  spite  of  his  own 
judgment,  De  Yane  felt  saddened  by  the  aspect  of  the 
heavens.  That  lurking  belief  in  the  sympathy  of  nature 
with  our  fortunes,  and  of  its  power  to  foreshadow  coming 
events,  which  we  all  experience,  caused  him  to  turn  his 
eyes  anxiously  upon  the  darkening  sky ;  and  he  found 
more  to  cheer  him  than  he  would  admit  to  himself,  when 
the  freshening  wind  drove  the  clouds 'before  it,  and  he 
saw  through  the  rifts  a  star  shedding  its  radiance  calmly 
amidst  the  surrounding  gloom,  and  lighting  the  Southern 
horizon  with  its  lustre,  when  blankness  covered  the  face 
of  every  other  planet  that  burned  in  the  firmament. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

'HAT  is  your  substance,  whereof  are  you  made, 
That  millions  of  strange  shadows  on  you  tend? 
ce  every  one  hath,  every  one,  one  shade, 
'd  you,  but  one,  can  every  shadow  lend. 

'  SHAKESPEARE. 

THE  next  morning,  when  De  Vane  and  Waring  were 
seated  at  the  breakfast-table,  Mr.  Swan,  the  public  garden 
er,  entered,  bearing  a  most  elaborate  bouquet.  Advancing 
to  De  Vane,  he  made  him  a  set  speech,  expressing  his  gra 
tification  at  his  return,  wishing  him  the  greatest  prosper 
ity,  and  concluding  by  asking  him  to  be  so  condescending 
as  to  accept  the  flowers  which  he  had  gathered  from  his 
garden.  De  Vane  thanked  him  for  his  kindness,  and  as 
sured  him  that  he  appreciated  the  flowers,  which  were 
really  beautiful ;  and  then  Mr.  Swan,  making  a  bow  which 
was  intended  to  be  magnificent,  retired. 

"  Those  flowers  are  rare  and  beautiful,"  said  Waring ; 
"  and  Mr.  Swan  is  certainly  an  admirer." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Bowen,  "  that  Mr.  Swan  is  really  a 
nice  man;  he  seems  to  be  very  well  disposed." 

"He -is  quite  an  ardent  friend  of  Mr.  De  Vane,"  said 
Waring  ;  "  and  that,  of  course,  argues  a  certain  degree  of 
merit  in  the  man  himself." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  De  Vane.  "  But  Mr.  Swan  is  really 
a  good  man ;  he  loves  his  calling,  and  extends  his  regards 
naturally  to  any  one  who  sympathizes  with  his  taste.  I 
was  able  to  explain  to  him,  at  one  time,  the  history  of  a 

(372) 


DE   VANE.  373 

tulip  of  extraordinary  beauty,  very  rarely  seen  in  this 
country,  and  he  has  been  my  friend  from  that  hour." 

"  Ranking  you  for  wisdom  with  King  Solomon  himself," 
said  Waring,  "  who  spoke  of  trees,  from  the  cedar-tree 
that  is  Lebanon,  even  unto  the  hyssop  that  springeth  out 
of  the  wall." 

"  Then  he  greatly  overrates  my  knowledge,"  said  De 
Vane,  laughing. 

After  breakfast,  De  Vane  called  Caesar  to  him,  and  in 
structed  him  to  show  his  servant  the  way  to  Mr.  Spring 
field's.  He  then  handed  to  Tully  a  small  silver  waiter, 
upon  which  the  bouquet  was  placed,  with  a  note  addressed 
to  Miss  Wordsworth,  and  directed  him  to  deliver  it  to  her 
servant. 

Tully,  returning  some  time  after,  brought  a  note  on  his 
waiter,  which  he  presented  to  his  master.  It  was  the  first 
note  that  De  Yane  had  ever  received  from  Esther,  and  its 
perfectly  graceful  and  faultless  style,  while  it  did  not 
surprise — certainly  charmed  him.  He  placed  it  with  his 
treasures. 

In  the  evening,  Waring  proposed  to  De  Yane  that  they 
should  walk  to  the  river,  and  they  turned  their  steps  in 
that  direction.  Reaching  the  mill,  they  stood  to  admire 
the  scene.  The  flashing  water  flew  in  silver  spray  from 
the  wheel ;  the  river  rushed  over  the  rocks,  which  strove 
in  vain  to  impede  its  course.  Evergreen  trees  hung  over 
its  banks,  and  the  vine  dipped  its  red  berries  in  the  stream, 
while  the  sunbeams  flamed  over  the  picture,  giving  it  a 
warm  coloring. 

"  How  beautiful  this  is !"  said  Waring.  "  Do  you  re 
member,  De  Yane,  that  we  took  this  very  walk  about 
twelve  months  since  ?" 

"  Perfectly  well,"  said  De  Yane ;  "  and  every  thing  vivid 
ly  recalls  it.  It  seems  a  great  while,  when  I  look  back, 
and  yet  but  twelve  months  have  gone  by  ;  but  what  event- 


374:  DE  VANE. 

ful  months  !  I  can  scarcely  recognize  myself.  The  truth 
is,  we  date  the  length  of  existence  by  our  emotions." 

"  True,  most  true,"  said  Waring.  "  We  have  no  actual 
measure  of  time  but  consciousness." 

Following  the  windings  of  the  stream,  they  came  to  the 
road  leading  from  the  ferry ;  and  involuntarily  both  paused, 
and  both  were  silent.  With  De  Vane  memory  was  busy, 
and  Waring  respected  his  emotions.  The  past  rose  before 
them  both.  The  brilliant  evening,  the  glowing  western 
sky,  the  waters  reddening  under  the  glancing  sunlight, 
the  ferry-boat  still  plying  between  the  rising  banks — all 
were  before  them  once  more.  De  Vane  saw  through  the 
luminous  past  the  traveling-carriage,  the  party  following 
it  as  it  ascended  the  hill,  and  Esther  in  her  glorious  youth 
ful  beauty ;  and  he  felt  that  his  real  existence  had  taken 
its  conscious  vitality  from  that  moment. 

"  Yes,  it  is  true,"  said  De  Vane.  "We  live  only  as  the 
soul  receives  its  impressions.  It  sheds  its  own  inherent 
light  upon  the  outward  world." 

He  spoke  unconsciously.  His  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the 
stream,  which  flowed  swiftly  on  its  shining  way,  in  itself 
a  picture  of  human  life  :  sometimes  brightened  by  the 
splendors  of  the  sun,  then  darkened  by  overhanging  sha 
dows  ;  but,  whether  in  sunshine  or  shadow,  gliding  on 
ward  to  the  wide  sea. 

Turning  away  from  the  scenery  which  so  much  interest 
ed  them,  they  retraced  their  steps;  and  just  as  they  were 
crossing  the  main  street,  near  the  State  House,  the  splen 
did  equipage  of  Mrs.  Habersham  drove  up.  Mrs.  Haber- 
sham  and  Miss  Godolphin  both  recognized  De  Vane,  and 
the  coachman  being  ordered  to  draw  up  his  horses,  the 
gentlemen  advanced  to  the  carriage. 

"  We  are  delighted  to  see  you,  Mr.  De  Vane,"  said  Miss 
Godolphin,  extending  her  hand  to  him,  "  and  we  give  you 
a  warm  welcome." 


DE  VANE.  375 

Mrs.  Habersham,  too,  shook  his  hand  with  real  pleasure, 
and  said :  "  Yes  Mr.  De  Vane,  we  are  happy  to  see  you 
once  more." 

De  Vane  made  his  acknowledgments  for  their  gracious- 
ness,  and  Waving  coming  up,  they  entered  into  conversa 
tion  with  the  ladies,  which  was  closed,  after  some  minutes, 
by  an  invitation  to  them  to  pass  the  evening  at  Mrs.  Ha- 
bersham's,  an  invitation  readily  accepted ;  and  the  spirited 
horses  dashed  away  once  more. 

"  How  resplendent  Miss  Godolphin  is !"  said  De  Vane. 
"  I  never  saw  her  looking  so  well." 

"  She  is  brilliant,"  said  Waring. 

"  Have  you  seen  much  of  her  through  the  summer  ?" 
asked  De  Vane. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Waring.  "  I  have  been  much  with  her. 
She  is  deeply  interested  in  the  subject  of  religion,  and  is 
an  earnest  seeker  after  the  right  way.  With  all  her  intel 
lect,  she  is  child-like — not  childish,  which,  is  a  widely  dif 
ferent  thing,  but  simple,  truthful,  guileless." 

De  Vane  heard  Waring's  glowing  tribute  with  interest, 
and  he  observed  how  much,  his  ardor  in  speaking  of  Miss 
Godolphin  had  increased,  since  his  recent  intercourse  with 
her  had  enabled  him  to  study  her  character  more  closely. 
'It  was  not  to  be  wondered  at ;  no  one  could  know  her 
without  coming  within  the  range  of  her  fascination.  Ear 
ly  in  the  evening  they  made  their  visit.  They  were 
received  by  Mrs.  Habersham  and  Miss  Godolphin  with 
marked  cordiality,  and  the  tea  service  was  immediately 
brought  in.  The  elegance,  indeed  the  splendor  of  every 
thing — the  furniture,  the  pictures,  the  statuary — imparted 
an  aristocratic  aspect  to  the  house,  rarely  seen  in  this 
country;  and  the  tastes  of  both  the  ladies  were  under 
stood  to  partake  of  the  same  character.  A  certain  hau 
teur  appeared  in  the  manner  of  Mrs.  Habersham,  and  there 
was  a  stateliness  about  Miss  Godolphin  that  repelled  many, 


376  PE  VANE. 

who  tlioug-ht  her  pride  quite  equal  to  that  of  her  aunt. 
They  recognized  De  Vane  as  a  peer  from  the  first ;  and 
they  had  learned  to  appreciate  Waring — to  comprehend 
the  elevation  of  his  character  and  the  high  order  of  his 
abilities — by  an  intercourse  with  him  which  had  now  be 
come  so  well  established,  that  he  was  always  received  as 
a  friend.  His  fine  sense,  his  large  attainments,  his  pure 
and  yet  warm  nature,  had  won  upon  them  both  ;  and  Miss 
Godolphin  had  unconsciously  become  deeply  interested  in 
him.  All  unacquainted  with  the  cause  of  her  occasional 
sadness,  Waring  saw  so  much  to  admire  in  the  high  quali 
ties  of  Miss  Godolphin,  that  he  found  a  strange  pleasure 
in  her  society ;  and  his  visits  of  late  had  become  so  fre 
quent,  as  to  attract  the  observation  of  his  friends.  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Springfield,  of  course,  could  not  be  ignorant  of 
his  growing  interest  in  her,  and  they  had  once  or  twice 
spoken  to  him  playfully  in  regard  to  it.  This  evening  De 
Vane  became  satisfied  that  his  friend's  interest  in  Miss 
Godolphin  was  really  deep,  and  he  felt  that  he  could  no 
longer  forbear  to  disclose  to  him  all  that  he  had  learned 

O 

respecting  her  history  from  Miss  Guilford  during  his  late 
visit  to  Virginia.  It  so  happened  that  the  conversation 
turned  upon  subjects  which  touched  European  events. 

"  And  you  met  the  Guilfords,  Mr.  De  Vane,  when  in  Vir 
ginia,  did  you  not  ?"  asked  Miss  Godolphin. 

"  Often,  very  often.  They  are  near  neighbors,  and  Mrs. 
De  Vane  and  Mrs.  Guilford  have  long  been  friends,"  re 
plied  De  Vane. 

"  We  traveled  with  them  so  long  in  Europe,"  said  Miss 
Godolphin,  "  that  we  knew  them  well.  Not  only  were  we 
with  them  on  the  Continent,  but  we  were  much  together 
in  England.  Are  her  tastes  as  English  as  ever  ?" 

"  Quite,"  said  De  Vane.  "  She  is  to  go  out  again  early 
next  spring." 

"  It  does  not  surprise  me,"  said  Miss  Godolphin.     "  She 


DE  VANE.  377 

can  never  be  happy  in  this  country.  England  is,  in  all 
respects,  suited  to  her  tastes." 

"  That  is  the  conclusion  that  I  reached,"  said  De  Yane. 

"  She  is  a  person  of  extraordinary  beauty,"  said  Miss 
Godolphin,  "  and  her  accomplishments  are  rare.  I  felt  a 
little  curious  to  know  how  you  withstood  her  attractions." 

"  I  am  so  patriotic,"  said  De  Vane,  "  that  I  found  myself 
in  perpetual  antagonism  with  Miss  Guilford.  Our  disputes 
ran  so  high,  that  Mrs.  De  Vane  found  it  necessary  some 
times  to  interfere,  for  the  preservation  of  amicable  relations. 
She  charged  me  with  a  want  of  loyalty  to  my  caste,  and  I 
retorted  by  charging  upon  her  a  want  of  loyalty  to  the 
country  ;  so  that  you  may  imagine  the  disputes  ran  high." 

Miss  Godolphin  laughed  heartily.  "And  so  you  were 
not  ensnared  ?"  she  said. 

"  Oh  !  no,"  said  De  Vane.  "  There  was  a  state  of  quasi- 
hostilities  between  us  all  the  while,  and  she  at  length  gave 
me  up  to  my  degenerate  tastes." 

"  Clara  Guilford,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  is  a  splendid 
person — intellectual,  accomplished,  full  of  animation  and 
energy ;  but  she  is  wholly  unsuited  to  this  country.  Noth 
ing  short  of  a  visit  to  Europe  every  year  or  two  will  con 
tent  her;  and  where  one  is  so  wholly  dependent  upon 
society  for  happiness,  I  can  not  believe  that  there  is  much 
heart.  Yet  she  certainly  is  not  destitute  of  feeling."  / 

"  No,"  said  De  Vane.  "  She  possesses  sensibility — a  high 
degree  of  it ;  and  it  may  be  that  she  is  not  incapable  of 
forming  a  very  strong  attachment.  But  I  should  fear  that 
her  tastes  would  interfere  with  it.  She  loves  rank,  splen 
dor,  the  great  world ;  and  if  she  should  encounter  a  re 
verse,  if  an  eclipse  should  come  over  her  fortunes,  I  do 
not  know  how  she  would  bear  it." 

"  I  never  thought  her  capable  of  feeling  what  I  should 
call  a  strong  attachment,"  said  Miss  Godolphin. 

Mrs.  Habersham  and  Waring  had  been  in  conversation, 


378  DE  VANE. 

but  as  Miss  Godolphin  said  this,  lie  fixed  his  eyes  on  her 
with  a  steadfast  gaze,  and  was  silent. 

Mrs.  Habersham  observed  this,  and  said  : 

"  Who  are  yon  discussing,  Hortensia  ?  You  must  per 
mit  Mr.  Waring  and  myself  to  share  it." 

"  I  was  speaking  with  Mr.  De  Vane,"  she  said,  "  of  a 
friend  of  ours  in  Virginia.  Do  you  not  remember  Clara 
Guilford  ?" 

"  Perfectly  well,"  said  Mrs.  Habersham  ;  "  the  most  bril 
liant  person  we  met  in  Europe." 

"  So  I  remember  you  thought  her,"  said  Miss  Godolphin. 
"  Mr.  De  Vane  has  been  much  with  her  through  the  sum 
mer,  and  has  returned  unscathed  by  her  charms." 

"  That  is  very  wonderful,"  said  Mrs.  Habersham.  "  I 
never  met  a  more  attractive  person.  How  did  you  escape, 
Mr.  De  Vane  ?" 

"  It  must  be,  madam,  some  defect  in  myself,  some  insen 
sibility  to  such  charms  ;  or  it  may  be  that  I  was  shielded 
by  some  invisible  goddess,  as  JEneas  was  sometimes  pro 
tected  when  in  danger." 

"  There  may  be  much  truth  in  what  you  say,"  said  Miss 
Godolphin  mischievously. 

"  Nothing  else  can  account  for  it,"  said  Mrs.  Habersham. 
"  Do  you  not  say  so,  Mr.  Waring  ?" 

"  The  extreme  danger  that  Mr.  De  Vane  was  in,  and  the 
extraordinary  escape  which  he  has  made,  would  seem  to 
authorize  such  a  conjecture,"  said  Waring.  ff  Mr.  De  Vane 
well  knows  that  one  of  the  rules  of  dramatic  classical  art 
is,  never  to  introduce  a  celestial  berns;,  without  something 

O  t  £5 

worthy  of  such  interference  should  demand  it ;  and  I  sup 
pose  the  rule  has  not  been  violated  in  his  case." 

"  But  who  is  the  celestial  being  that  interposed  ?"  asked 
Miss  Godolphin. 

"  Some  one  it  must  have  been  that  felt  a  deep  interest  in 
Mr.  De  Vane's  welfare,"  said  Waring. 


DE  VANE."  379 

"And  lovely  enough  to  rank  with  celestials,  of  course," 
said  Miss  Godolphin. 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  you  are  combining  against  Mr.  De 
Vane,"  said  Mrs.  Habersham.  "  I  must  really  take  pa^t 
with  him." 

"  Yery  well,  aunt,"  said  Miss  Godolphin  ;  "  if  you  think 
it  necessary  to  succor  one  who  is  aided  by  some  celestial 
being." 

"  I  am  grateful  to  you,  Mrs.  Habersham,  for  your  friend 
ly  sympathy,"  said  De  Yane. 

"  I  did  not  understand  their  object  when  I  made  my  re 
mark  as  to  the  mode  of  your  escape  from  Miss  Guilford's 
charms,  Mr.  De  Yane,  I  assure  you.  Hortensia  is,  I  see, 
somewhat  disposed  to  persecute  you  this  evening." 

"  No  one  can  be  more  innocent  than  I  am,  aunt.  Mr. 
De  Yane  himself  first  suggested  the  nature  of  the  assist 
ance  he  had  received ;  and  I  was'  only  curious  to  know 
something  of  the  personnel  of  a  being  at  once  so  benevo 
lent  and  so  charming.  Are  you  sure  about  her  wings  ?" 

"  To  all  of  which  I  can  say  nothing,"  said  De  Yane.  "  If 
I  am  indebted  to  celestial  aid  at  all  for  my  escape  from  the 
charms  of  Miss  Guilford,  the  being  who  succored  me  was 
invisible.  I  only  intended  to  assure  you,  in  the  most  em 
phatic  way,  of  my  insensibility.  Of  that,  there  can  be  no 
doubt." 

"  Perhaps  the  revealing  future  may  yet  bring  to  our 
view  the  friendly  goddess,"  said  Miss  Godolphin. 

"  If  so,"  said  De  Yane,  "  I  shall  gratefully  acknowledge 
her  kind  offices,  and  submit  myself  unfalteringly  tocher 
guidance." 

"  You  could  not  do  better,  I  assure  you,  than  to  do  so," 
said  Waring.  "  It  sometimes  happens  in  life,  it  may  be, 
that  an  impression  made  on  us,  of  which  we  are  ourselves 
scarcely  conscious,  renders  us  insensible  to  the  attractions 
of  all  the  world  besides,  however  it  may  array  itself  after 
ward." 


380  DE  VANE. 

Miss  Godolphin's  face  was  a  study.  The  light  which 
illumined  it  had  been  unusually  brilliant — never  more  so. 
It  was  the  cloudless  sky  of  a  summer  day ;  but  now  a 
cloud  stole  over  it,  dimming  its  splendor.  She  was  silent. 
Waring  observed  it,  and  was  embarrassed.  De  Vane  saw 
that  the  subject  must  be  changed,  and  he  said  to  Miss 
Godolphin  that  he  had  heard,  since  his  arrival,  of  her 
growing  taste  for  equestrian  excursions. 

"  Mr.  Waring  informs  me,"  he  said,  "  that  he  had  the 
pleasure  of  joining  you  in  several  rides  during  the  sum 
mer." 

"  Yes,"  she  replied,  "  Mr.  Waring  was  good  enough  to 
accompany  Miss  Wordsworth  and  myself  several  times ; 
and  when  in  the  country,  we  often  rode  the  whole  morn 
ing  without  any  one  to  attend  us.  We  found  it  delightful." 

"  I  hope  that  you  will  not  discontinue  the  habit,"  said 
De  Vane.  "  I  have  been  promising  myself  the  pleasure  of 
attending  you  frequently.  Miss  Wordsworth  assures  me 
that  she  will  be  ready  to  accompany  us." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Miss  Godolphin.  "  I  shall  be  happy 
to  join  you  at  any  time." 

"  Then,"  said  De  Vane,  "  we  will  make  an  early  arrange 
ment  for  a  ride.  Mr.  Waring  will,  of  course,  join  us  ?" 

"  With  the  greatest  pleasure,"  said  Waring.  "  The  fall 
is  beautiful ;  and  in  fine  weather,  I  much  prefer  the  saddle 
to  a  carriage  of  any  description." 

It  was  settled  that  during  the  next  week  they  should 
begin  their  excursions. 

I^e  Vane  requested  Miss  Godolphin  to  give  t&em  some 
music. 

"  Do  you  prefer  the  harp  or  the  piano  ?"  she  asked. 

"  Which  shall  it  be,  Mr.  Waring  ?"  said  De  Vane. 

"  With  Miss  Godolphin's  voice,  I  prefer  the  harp,"  said 
Waring. 

She  instantly  rose,  and  took  her  seat  by  the  instrument. 


DE   VANE.  381 

Her  fingers  swept  its  chords  with  marvelous  skill ;  and 
after  playing  a  symphony  of  exquisite  beauty,  she  sang 
those  lines  of  Moore,  so  full  of  tender  sympathy, 

"Has  sorrow  thy  young  days  shaded?" 

And  the  deep,  almost  spiritual  tenderness  of  her  tones 
affected  those  who  heard  her  indescribably.  It  was  as  if 
an  angel,  saddened  by  some  scene  of  the  past,  forgot  for 
a  moment  the  bliss  of  heaven,  and  touched  the  harp  at 
tuned  for  celestial  melody,  with  the  tones  of  earthly  sor 
row.  As  the  last  lines  were  uttered  by  her,  her  clasped 
hands,  half  hidden  by  the  drapery  of  her  dress,  disclosed 
the  strength  of  her  own  emotions.  For  some  minutes  she 
did  not  move,  and  then  rising  slowly,  she  seated  herself 
near  Mrs.  Habersham. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  De  Vane.  "  There  are  no  songs  like 
those  of  Moore.  Their  beauty  and  tenderness  are  inim 
itable." 

"  It  is  wonderful,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  that  a  person 
so  gay  as  Moore  should  have  been  able  to  write  as  he 
does.  He  must  have  suffered." 

"  One  would  suppose  so,"  said  Waring.  "  It  is  said  that 
a  comedian  in  Paris,  who  drew  immense  croAvds  night  after 
night,  to  witness  his  unrivaled  gayeties,  called  on  an 
eminent  physician,  to  consult  him  in  regard  to  a  depres 
sion  of  spirits  which  he  could  not  shake  off,  and  which  he 
therefore  thought  must  be  the  result  of  physical  disorgan 
isation.  He  called  incognito  /  and  the  physician,  unable 
to  discover  any  symptoms  of  disease,  advised  him  to  visit 
the  theatre,  and  witness  the  performances  of  the  cele 
brated  Monsieur  Vaudeville,  then  attracting  such  audi 
ences.  '  Alas !'  exclaimed  the  actor,  c  I  am  that  very 
Monsieur  Vaudeville.'  So  little  can  we  judge  of  the  inte 
rior  nature  by  outward  gayety.  It  may  be  so  with  Moore." 


382  DE   VANE. 

"  Moore  sings  his  own  songs  exquisitely,"  said  Miss 
Godolphin.  "  We  heard  him  in  London.  He  sat  down 
quickly  when  invited  to  sing,  ran  his  fingers  over  the  keys 
of  the  instrument,  and  then  sang  like  an  improvisatore^ 
giving  the  fullest  effect  to  every  sentiment,  by  his  manner 
of  uttering  the  words.  I  remember  that  on  one  occasion, 
in  the  presence  of  a  somewhat  large  company,  he  sang  one 
of  his  melodies  with  such  resistless  pathos,  that  every  one 
sympathized  with  him ;  and  when  it  was  ended,  he  rose 
from  his  seat,  bowed  to  the  lady  whose  reception  he 
graced  with  his  presence,  and  glided  from  the  room. 
Something  was  said  by  one  of  the  party,  within  my  hear 
ing,  of  an  early  attachment  between  himself  and  the  lady 
at  whose  house  we  were  entertained." 

"  There  is  enough  in  the  condition  of  his  country  to 
awaken  his  patriotism,"  said  De  Vane.  "  I  wonder  that 
he  has  not  written  m»ore  on  that  subject  than  he  has. 
Some  of  his  national  songs  are  very  fine." 

"  He  is  much  in  England,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  and 
welcomed  by  the  aristocratic  circles,  not  only  of  London, 
but  in  the  country  ;  and  this,  of  course,  while  it  does  not 
lessen  his  loyalty  to  Ireland,  softens  the  asperity  which 
characterizes  all  that  is  written  by  most  men  of  genius  in 
that  country."  >spct: 

"  Yet,"  said  Waring,  "  nothing  can  be  finer  than  some 
of  his  tributes  to  Ireland." 

"  Oh !  unquestionably,"  said  De  Vane.  "  So*me  of  them 
would  rouse  Ireland  to  flame,  if  they  could  be  sung  or 
recited  throughout  the  country,  as  the  ancient  bards  re 
hearsed  their  poems  in  the  midst  of  their  countrymen. 

After  some  formal  conversation  upon  local  topics,  the 
gentlemen  took  their  leave  of  the  ladies,  and  walked  slowly 
homeward. 

"  You  must  have  observed,  De  Vane,"  said  Waring, 
"  how  sudden  the  change  in  Miss  Godolphin's  spirits  was, 


DE   VANE.  383 

and  it  was  evidently  caused  by  the  conversation  upon  the 
subject  of  some  reigning  attachment,  which  made  it  im 
possible  for  one  who  had  experienced  it  to  feel  any  deep 
interest  in  another  afterward.  What  does  it  mean  ?  Can 
it  be  possible  that  she  has  loved,  and  loved  hopelessly  ? 
One  can  hardly  suppose  so.  And  yet  there  are  circum 
stances  which,  at  times,  almost  satisfy  me  that  it  is  so. 
What  do  you  think  of  it  ?" 

"  There  are  recollections,"  said  De  Yane,  "  which  sad 
den  Miss  Godolphin.  I  learned  her  history  from  Miss 
Guilford.  It  is  proper  that  I  should  make  known  to 
you  what  has  been  stated  to  me.  I  should  have  written 
to  you  in  regard  to  it,  but  I  was  unwilling  to  commit 
to  paper  statements  of  such  extreme  delicacy  connected 
with  the  name  of  a  lady. 

"  It  seems  that  when  Miss  Godolphin  went  to  Europe, 
now  nearly  five  years  since,  when  she  was  very  young, 
that  she  passed  the  first  six  months  in  England  with  her 
relatives.  She  was  much  admired,  and  received  atten 
tions  from  several  gentlemen,  wTho  saw  her  at  the  resi 
dence  of  her  uncle,  Sir  George  Godolphin.  His  only  son, 
at  that  time  barely  twenty-two  years  of  age,  became  very 
strongly  attached  to  Miss  Godolphin,  and  addressed  her. 
She  rejected  him ;  and  finding  her  stay  under  the  same 
roof  with  her  cousin  embarrassing  to  both,  she  prevailed 
on  Mrs.  Habersham  to  go  to  the  Continent.  Passing 
through  Paris,  after  a  brief  visit  to  that  city,  they  pro 
ceeded  to  Italy,  and  took  up  their  residence  there.  Lord 
Byron  was  at  that  time  residing  near  the  place  where  they 
had  fixed  their  own  residence,  and  was  projecting  his  en 
terprise  for  aiding  Greece  in  her  great  struggle  for  inde 
pendence.  He  saw  the  ladies,  and  sometimes  visited  them. 
At  this  time  young  Godolphin,  unable  to  conquer  his  pas 
sion,  came  to  Italy,  and  renewed  his  suit  to  Miss  Godol 
phin.  He  urged  her  to  reconsider  her  resolution — to  per- 


384  DE  VANE. 

mit  him  to  hope — to  subject  him  to  any  probation,  that  he 
might  satisfy  her  of  the  unconquerable  strength  of  his 
love.  She  was  touched  by  his  ardor  and  constancy,  but 
still  steadily  refused  to  contract  any  engagement  with  him. 
Young  Godolphin  remained  with  them,  joined  them  in 
their  excursions,  and  made  the  acquaintance  of  Lord 
Byron.  Miss  Godolphin  herself  had  caught  the  enthusi 
astic  interest  in  the  fortunes  of  Greece  which  filled  the 
soul  of  the  noble  poet ;  and  she  expressed  the  wish  in  the 
presence  of  her  cousin,  that  she  could  do  something  to 
aid  that  heroic  people,  struggling  for  liberty.  Inflamed 
with  the  hope  of  acquiring  some  real  interest  in  the  heart 
of  Miss  Godolphin,  by  offering  his  services  to  Greece,  and 
sharing,  too,  the  enthusiasm  which  fired  Lord  Byron,  he 
devoted  himself  to  the  same  cause. 

"  Miss  Godolphin  encouraged  his  purpose,  and  for  the 
first  time  really  regarded  him  with  admiration.  Young, 
noble,  accomplished,  and  generous,  he  might  well  interest 
any  woman.  His  fortune  was  very  large,  and  he  employed 
much  of  it  in  the  cause  which  he  had  espoused.  The 
whole  energy  of  his  nature  was  enlisted — for  he  never  did 
any  thing  by  halves. 

"  He  accompanied  Lord  Byron  when  he  entered  Greece, 
and  perished  in  an  engagement  in  which  he  took  part,  soon 
after  the  death  of  the  noble  poet.  Sir  George  Godolphin 
was  overwhelmed  with  grief,  when  the  tidings  of  the  death 
of  his  son  reached  him  ;  and  wrote  to  Miss  Godolphin,  re 
proaching  her  in  bitter  terms,  as  the  cause  of  the  desola 
tion  of  his  house. 

"  She  was  plunged  into  deep  grief.  Her  own  spirit  gave 
the  keenest  edge  to  the  accusations  of  Sir  George.  She 
felt  that  she  had  inflamed  the  ambition  of  the  generous 
man  who  loved  her  so  ardently,  and  she  could  not  still  the 
voice  of  her  own  soul,  which  spake  to  her  in  tones  of  an 
guish,  of  the  fatal  effects  of  her  visit  to  the  house  of  her 


DE   VANE.  385 

uncle,  then  so  bright  and  happy,  now  so  dark  and  deso 
late.  If  she  could  have  brought  herself  to  yield  to  the 
passionate  entreaties  of  her  cousin,  all  might  have  been 
averted  ;  but  then  she  did  not  love  him.  She  might  have 
done  so  in  time ;  but  she  had  searched  her  young,  true 
heart,  and  found  it  impossible  to  promise  him  any  thing 
which  could  encourage  him.  Then  ambition,  rising  up 
within  him,  while  love  was  yet  unconquered,  impelled  him 
to  the  step  which  sacrificed  his  own  life,  brought  darkness 
upon  the  stately  towers  of  his  ancestral  home,  and  threw  a 
rayless  shadow  upon  the  morning  of  her  life. 

"  You  comprehend  now,  much  that  has  seemed  so  mys 
terious  to  us  in  the  manner  of  Miss  Godolphin." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Waring,  "  I  see  it  all-.  Self-accusing, 
full  of  remorse,  she  has  mourned  young  Godolphin  as  none 
but  the  most  generous  natures  can  mourn  the  dead.  The 
youth,  the  ardor,  the  enthusiasm,  the  self-sacrificing  spirit 
of  the  man  whom  she  could  not  love  while  living,  all  con 
spire  to  make  her  love  his  memory." 

"  It  is  the  settled  opinion  of  Miss  Guilford,"  said  De 
Vane,  "  that  Miss  Godolphin  not  only  never  loved  her 
cousin,  but  that  she  never  could  have  done  so.  She  ob 
served  their  intercourse,  and  knew  the  sentiments  of  Miss 
Godolphin  well.  She  attributes  her  sadness,  which  was 
much  greater  formerly  than  it  is  now,  to  remorse.  She 
fancies  that  the  fate  of  young  Godolphin  was  caused  by 
herself,  and  she  has  tortured  herself,  as  a  generous  and 
strong  nature  will  do,  under  such  circumstances.  She  is 
satisfied  that  this  is  the  true  solution  of  Miss  Godolphin's 
grief.  She  had  brilliant  offers  while  abroad,  from  English 
gentlemen,  and  from  her  own  countrymen,  but  she  reject 
ed  them  in  every  instance,  unhesitatingly." 

De  Yane  was  full  and  emphatic  in  this  si^tement,  from 
a  desire  to  relieve  Waring  of  that  apprehension  which  he 
knew  he  must  entertain  of  the  nature  of  Miss  Godolphin's 
17 


386  BE   VANE. 

sadness.  He  saw  how  deep  his  interest  in  her  was — too 
deep  now  to  be  concealed ;  and  from  a  generous  sympa 
thy  with  his  friend,  he  sought  to  remove  the  slightest 
ground  for  the  belief  that  she  had  ever  loved. 

"  Thank  you,  De  Vane,  for  your  kindness,"  said  War 
ing.  "  I  comprehend  Miss  Godolphin  now.  She  is  an 
extraordinary  woman,  whose  glorious  nature  has  been 
too  long  darkened  by  sorrow — sorrow  that  she  should 
never  have  indulged.  I  am  greatly  relieved.  I  confess  to 
you  that  my  interest  in  her  is  very  strong.  Her  generous 
reception  of  me  from  the  first  hour  of  our  acquaintance ; 
her  glorious  scorn  of  all  little  and  contemptible  conven 
tionalisms  ;  her  grand  love  of  truth  wherever  she  sees  it ; 
her  beautiful  appreciation  of  what  is  good,  whether  in 
high  life  or  humble  life — all  this,  and  much  more,  has  won 
me,  in  spite  of  my  reserve  and  caution.  Still  I  could  not 
banish  some  distrust.  I  feared  that  she  had  loved,  and 
loved  hopelessly ;  and  to  one  of  iny  nature,  this  would 
have  been  intolerable.  I  am  greatly  relieved.  I  did  not 
comprehend  until  now,  the  extent  of  my  interest  in  Miss 
Godolphin." 

"  I  rejoice  to  be  able  to  contribute  any  thing  to  your 
happiness,"  said  De  Vane.  "  I  have  observed  your  inter 
est  in  Miss  Godolphin,  and  I  felt  it  my  duty  to  make 
known  to  you  the  statement  which  I  had  from  Miss  Guil- 
ford.  She  speaks  with  enthusiasm  of  Miss  Godolphin,  and 
wonders  that  any  one  can  withstand  her  charms." 

"  So  do  I,"  said  Waring  earnestly  and  quickly,  and  with 
perfect  simplicity. 

"  It  does  not  surprise  me  to  hear  you  say  so,"  said  De 
Vane.  "  But  fortunately,  the  fatal  arrows  from  one  quiver 
do  not  pierce  all  hearts,  otherwise  the  world  would  be  in 
a  hopeless  state." 

"Certainly,"  said  Waring,  laughing,  "certainly — you 
are  right." 


DE  VANE.  387 

"So  excuse  me  for  not  attempting  to  rival  you,"  said 
De  Vane. 

"  I  am,  De  Yane,  under  great  obligations  to  you  for  your 
forbearance,"  said  Waring.  "  I  do  not  know  how  Miss 
Godolpliin  may  regard  my  presumption,  but  I  certainly 
can  never  regard  any  other  woman  than  herself,  as  entitled 
to  the  homage  of  my  heart." 

"  Presumption,  indeed  !"  said  De  Vane.  "  Any  woman 
on  earth  might  feel  herself  honored  by  your  addresses.  If 
I  do  not  misinterpret  Miss  Godolphin,  she  is  capable  of 
appreciating  you.  She  is  a  noble  woman,  and  her  soul 
rises  above  the  distinctions  which  some  regard  as  so  vast 
and  so  important." 

They  had  reached  home ;  but  neither  felt  inclined  to 
sleep.  They  sat  down  in  Waring's  room,  and  De  Vane, 
opening  the  melodeon — which  he  had  not  touched  since  his 
return — played  a  grand  old  piece.  Through  the  notes  there 
rolled  the  exultant  tone  of  youth  and  hope ;  and  as  he  con 
cluded  it,  the  volume  of  sound,  rising  beyond  the  limits  of 
the  apartment,  floated  out  upon  the  night  air,  and  was 
borne  toward  the  heavens,  which,  bending  over  the  earth, 
seemed  to  sympathize  with  human  hearts,  and  to  cheer  all 
souls  which  could  look  away  from  the  present  and  the 
actual,  to  the  invisible  but  still  real  and  revealing  future. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

"SHE  her  throne  makes  Reason  climb, 

While  wild  passions  captive  lie, 
And  each  article  of  time, 
Her  pure  thoughts  to  heaven  fly; 
All  her  vows  religious  be, 
And  she  vows  her  love  to  me." 

WILLIAM  HABINGTON. 

SOME  engagement  took  Waring  to  the  College,  the  uext 
morning,  Saturday  as  it  was,  and  De  Yane  walked  to  Lea- 
sowes.  lie  had  not  visited  it  since  his  return,  and  he 
felt  a  strong  inclination  to  walk  through  the  grounds.  It 
was  not  at  all  certain  that  he  should  meet  Esther,  as  it 
was  only  occasionally  that  she  visited  the  place  on  Satur 
day ;  but  he  wished  to  visit  walks  so  endeared  to  him  by 
associations.  He  entered  the  grounds  at  about  ten  o'clock 
in  the  forenoon,  and  turning  to  the  right,  walked  slowly 
through  the  wild  orange  trees,  whose  branches,  trimmed 
in  a  tasteful  way,  suffered  the  sunlight  to  fall  upon  the 
graveled  walks,  as  through  the  windows  of  a  cathedral 
upon  its  paved  floor.  No  one  was  visible ;  and  seating 
himself  at  length  upon  one  of  the  iron  settees,  he  recalled 
the  morning  when,  walking  by  the  side  of  Esther  by  this 
very  spot,  he  had  named  her  place  Leasowes.  The  warmth 
of  his  manner  had,  on  that  occasion,  startled  her.  He  had 
observed  it,  and  he  had  restrained  himself  afterward,  up 
to  the  very  hour  of  his  departure  from  Virginia.  Even 
then  he  had  asked  no  more  than  to  be  admitted  upon  a 
footing  of  friendship — friendship  in  a  high  sense,  but  only 

(388) 


DE   VANE.  389 

friendship.  His  future  was  at  that  time  all  uncertain.  His 
residence  had  not  then  been  fixed — at  least,  his  own  selec 
tion  was  open  to  objections  which  his  father  might  urge — 
nor  had  he  then  satisfied  himself  as  to  the  nature  and 
strength  of  his  sentiments  respecting  Esther.  But  now  no 
question  could  be  raised  as  to  where  his  home  was  to  be, 
nor  could  he  longer  doubt  that  he  loved  with  all  the  ener 
gy  of  his  nature.  Why,  then,  should  he  longer  delay  a 
frank  declaration  of  his  love  ?  Why  should  he  leave  him 
self  in  doubt  as  to  Esther's  interest  in  him  ?  Why  hesitate 
to  obey  the  strong  promptings  of  his  own  heart  ? 

After  sitting  for  a  half-hour  almost  unconscious  of  his 
surroundings,  he  heard  voices  in  a.  neighboring  walk,  and 
he  instantly  recognized  them.  Miss  Godolphin  and  Esther 
were  in  earnest  conversation.  He  heard  his  own  name 
mentioned  by  Miss  Godolphin,  and  he  at  once  rose  and 
walked  away,  feeling  that  he  ought  not  to  hear  a  conver 
sation  which  was  not  intended  for  his  ear.  Passing  into 
another  walk,  he  pursued  it  until  it  emerged  at  the  base  of 
the  hill  where  the  fountain  was  throwing  its  bright  waters 
into  the  pure  morning  sunlight,  and  he  seated  himself  upon 
the  very  spot  which  he  occupied  when  he  had  last  met 
Esther  here.  Again  memory  was  busy.  The  past  was  re 
called  ;  and  the  beautiful,  clear  truthfulness  of  Esther,  her 
modest  yet  noble  utterance  of  her  sentiment,  her  glowing 
beauty — all  were  before  him.  He  had  risen  from  his  seat, 
and  was  looking  over  the  railing  that  surrounded  the  mar 
ble  basin  into  which  the  waters  of  the  fountain  fell,  per 
fectly  abstracted  from  all  the  objects  about  him,  when  he 
was  startled  by  a  voice  very  near  him  :  "  Good  morning  ! 
Mr.  De  Yane.  I  welcome  you  once  more  to  Leasowes." 

He  started,  and  turnino-   saw  Esther.     There  she  stood 

'  O  / 

in  her  resplendent  beauty,  more  elaborately  and  elegantly 
dressed  than  was  usual  with  her  when  at  Leasowes,  and 


390  DE  VANE. 

her  manner  so  playful  and  bright,  that  De  Vane  felt  he  had 
never  seen  her  when  she  appeared  so  lovely. 

"  I  owe  you  an  apology,  Miss  Wordsworth,"  he  said, 
"for  trespassing  upon  your  seclusion  here  without  your 
permission,  but  I  could  not  resist  my  wish  to  visit  this 
spot  once  more." 

"  Permission  !"  said  Esther.  "  Do  you  not  remember 
that  I  gave  you  an  invitation  long  since  to  visit  Leasowes 
whenever  you  found  it  agreeable  to  do  so  ?" 

"Perfectly  well,"  said  De  Vane  ;  "  but  as  I  have  been  an 
exile  for  the  last  three  months,  I  should  have  sought  anew 
your  gracious  permission  before  entering  your  realm." 

"  I  am  not  so  arbitrary  a  sovereign  as  to  require  a  new 
pledge  of  loyalty  every  three  months  from  friends." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  De  Vane,  "  for  not  doubting  my  loy 
alty.  It  has  been  unswerving,  I  assure  you.  I  am  de 
lighted  to  meet  you  alone,  that  I  may  say  so  with  all  the 
ardor  which  my  nature  prompts." 

Esther  colored,  and  then  became  very  pale,  but  she 
made  no  reply.  De  Vane's  manner,  much  more  than  his 
language,  startled  and  embarrassed  her. 

"  I  am  very  fortunate,  Miss  Wordsworth,  in  meeting  you 
here.  I  was  by  no  means  sure  that  I  should  find  you." 

"  I  have  been  driving  with  Miss  Godolphin  this  morn 
ing,"  she  replied,  "  and  she  had  put  me  down  here  but  a 
short  time  since.  We  had  walked  some  little  time  through 
the  grounds,  when  she  left  me,  that  I  might  pay  a  flying 
visit  to  my  little  girls  ;  and  as  I  entered  the  house,  I  saw 
you,  and  came  to  welcome  you." 

"  Miss  Wordsworth,  it  would  be  impossible  to  conceal 
my  interest  in  you,  if  I  desired  to  do  so.  Long  before  my 
departure  for  Virginia  it  must  have  been  known  to  you, 
but  I  was  not  at  liberty  to  speak  of  it.  Every  thing  was 
unsettled — my  residence,  my  whole  future.  Now  every 
thing  is  understood — I  am  to  reside  here,  and  whatever 


DE   VANE.  391 

plans  may  have  been  laid  out  for  me  by  others,  of  course 
are  disposed  of  by  my  fixing  upon  this  place  as  my  resid 
ence,  and  deciding  to  take  part  in  the  active  employments 
of  life.  I  am  at  liberty  to  speak  to  you.  I  know  my  own 
heart,  and  you  are  enthroned  in  it  for  all  the  future." 

Again  Esther's  face  was  flushed  to  the  temples,  and  she 
was  evidently  deeply  moved.  Her  emotion  did  not  permit 
her  to  speak.  De  Yane,  ardent  as  he  was,  treated  her 
with  the  profoundest  respect.  She  had  seated  herself,  and 
he  stood  before  her,  his  arms  folded  and  his  lips  com 
pressed. 

"  Speak  to  me,  Miss  Wordsworth,  speak  to  me.  I  love 
you  deeply,  passionately,  unchangeably.  Will  you  per 
mit  me  to  love  you?  Will  you  say  that  I  may  indulge  a 
sentiment  which  it  would  be  impossible  to  conquer?  Or 
are  you  too  cold  to  experience  the  glow  of  earthly  pas 
sion  ?" 

Esther  raised  her  glowing  face,  and  far  down  in  her 
fathomless  eyes  he  read  a  soul  capable  of  profoundest  sen 
timent. 

"  I  do  not  know  how  to  answer  you,  Mr.  De  Vane. 
Coldness  is  no  part  of  my  nature." 

De  Vane  sat  down  by  her  side,  and  took  her  hand ;  it 
trembled. 

"  And  may  I  hope,  Esther,  that  you  do  not  regard  me 
with  indifference  ?" 

"  I  should  always  reproach  myself,  Mr.  De  Vane,  if  I  were 
to  speak  to  you  now  in  any  other  way  than  with  perfect 
frankness.  I  do  not  regard  you  with  indifference,  but  I 
fear  to  trust  my  own  heart." 

"  And  why  should  you  fear,  Esther  ?  What  is  there  to 
inspire  distrust  ?" 

"  Oh  !  much,  very  much.  The  solemn  injunction  of  a 
dying  mother  binds  me  to  duties  which  might  be  distaste 
ful  to  you.  Your  views  of  religion  differ  widely  from 


392  BE   VANE. 

mine ;  and  while  I  honor  you  too  much  to  believe  you 
capable  of  sharing  the  prejudice,  yet  I  know  that  your 
father  and  your  aunt  regard  me  as  belonging  to  a  despised 
people." 

"And  what  are  their  prejudices  to  us  ?"  said  De  Vane. 
"  When  they  come  to  know  you,  they  will  honor  and  love 
you." 

"  Still,"  said  Esther,  "  I  could  never  consent  to  intro 
duce  unhappiness  into  any  family.  It  was  but  a  few  mo 
ments  since  that  I  was  with  Miss  Godolphin.  She  spoke 
of  you,  of  your  father,  and  of  your  aunt,  and  I  saw  our  re 
lations  as  I  had  never  seen  them  before.  Never,  never  could 
I  be  happy  if  I  were  to  darken  any  house,  especially  such 
a  house  as  yours,  so  full  of  ancestral  pride,  all  of  which  is 
centered  on  you." 

"  But,  Esther,  dearest  Esther,  do  you  not  regard  my 
happiness  ?  Would  you  sacrifice  me  on  the  cruel  altar  of 
family  pride  ?  Then,  too,  you  overrate  the  barrier  to 
which  you  refer.  It  will  at  once  give  way  when  you  are 
known." 

"  I  would  not  sacrifice  you,  Mr.  De  Vane,  to  any  false 
sentiment  of  my  own.  It  is  due  to  truth  to  say  that  I 
prize  the  love  with  which  you  have  honored  me,  but  in 
the  face  of  an  unhappy  father  you  would  read  my  condem 
nation  ;  and  if  your  magnanimity  did  not  permit  you  to 
reproach  me,  your  heart  would  suggest  accusations  against 
me.  Then,  too,  the  want  of  sympathy  in  our  religious 
views  would  deprive  me  of  the  consolation  which  I  should 
so  much  need  if  I  saw  you  made  unhappy  because  of  me." 

"  O  Esther  !  do  not  torture  yourself  and  me  by  such  ap 
prehensions.  My  dearest  Esther,  these  are  only  summer 
clouds,  which  will  pass  over,  and  leave  us  a  cloudless 
heaven." 

"  Still,  Mr.  De  Vane,"  she  said,  "  while  I  must  be  loyal 
to  truth,  and  say  as  I  do  that  my  own  heart  pleads  for 


DE   VANE.  393 

you,  I  must  say  too,  with  perfect  sincerity,  that  while 
these  barriers  exist,  we  can  only  be  friends." 

Tears  filled  her  eyes,  and  after  trembling  for  a  moment 
upon  the  dark  lashes,  rolled  down  her  cheeks.  She  could 
no  longer  restrain  herself.  She  wept  as  if  the  fountains  of 
feeling  so  long  repressed  had  broken  from  the  control 
under  which  she  had  hitherto  held  them,  and  would  have 
their  way.  Her  young,  pure,  generous  heart  suffered  in 
the  fierce  struggle  between  love  and  duty,  and  she  could 
not  still  its  throbbings.  De  Vane  was  deeply  affected.  His 
respect  for  her  was  as  great  as  his  love.  The  perfect  puri 
ty  of  her  character,  the  nobleness  of  her  nature,  which, 
disdaining  all  false  sentiments,  prompted  her  to  avow  her 
regard  for  him ;  while  the  majestic  sense  of  duty  which 
reigned  within  her  prevented  her  from  yielding  to  his 
wishes,  and  forbade  her  to  enter  into  any  engagement  with 
him ;  all  this  filled  him  wTith  a  sentiment  almost  of  ven 
eration  for  the  woman  whom  he  regarded  with  a  feeling 
amounting  to  adoration.  He  held  her  hand  in  silence  for 
some  moments,  suffered  the  violence  of  her  emotions  to 
subside,  and  then  spoke  to  her  cheerfully  : 

"  Well,  dearest  Esther,  all  that  I  ask  is,  that  you  will 
give  me  time  to  remove  these  barriers.  We  understand 
each  other.  I  can  trust  you  without  vows.  There  is  no 
possibility  of  change  on  my  part,  and  all  will  yet  be  well 
with  us." 

"  0  change  !  There  can  be  no  change  in  me.  I  am  not 
subject  to  change  even  in  friendship,  and  I  have  never 
known  what  it  was  to  feel  an  interest  in  any  one  such  as  I 
feel  in  you.  Do  not  urge  me,  Mr.  De  Vane.  You  are  right, 
you  can  trust  me  without  vows.  We  comprehend  each 
other  now,  and  we  must  trust  each  other  for  all  the  fu 
ture." 

De  Vane  bowed  his  head,  and  kissed  her  hand — the  first 
touch  of  lips,  warmed  by  passion,  which  she  had  ever  felt. 
17* 


394  DE  VANE. 

She  withdrew  her  hand,  and  rose  from  her  seat.  They 
stood  by  the  fountain ;  its  waters  flashed  in  the  sunlight, 
and  fell  in  sparkling  spray ;  and  as  the  breeze  swept  it 
lightly,  a  rainbow  spanned  the  little  basin. 

"  See,  Esther,"  said  De  Vane,  "  you  think  that  a  cloud 
rests  upon  our  future ;  there  is  our  bow  of  promise.  It 
spans  your  own  fountain." 

A  smile,  bright  as  sunlight,  overspread  her  face,  and 
her  eyes  slione  through  the  lingering  tears  with  a  richer 
lustre  than  that  which  gilded  the  falling  waters  of  the 
fountain. 

They  turned  into  one  of  the  walks,  and  De  Vane  said : 

"  You  refuse,  Esther,  to  bind  yourself  to  me  by  vows, 
but  you  have  made  me  transcendently  happy  by  avow 
ing  your  interest  in  me.  Your  decision  is  not  the  result 
of  indifference.  I  shall  labor  to  remove  the  barriers  which 
to  you  seem  so  formidable ;  when  that  is  done,  I  hope  to 
claim  you  as  my  own." 

"  You  may  underrate  the  magnitude  of  the  obstacles  to 
which  I  refer,  Mr.  De  Vane,"  she  replied.  "  I  have  spoken 
with  perfect  frankness,  but  I  can  promise  nothing  what 
ever.  I  am  your  friend,  and  it  is  impossible  that  I  can 
be  more,  until  I  become  satisfied  that  my  duty — I  mean, 
until  I  am  able  to  feel  that  considerations  which  affect  us 
both  make  it  proper  that  I  should  yield  to  your  wishes." 

"And  is  this  all  that  you  can  say  to  me,  Esther  ?" 

"All,"  she  replied. 

"It  must  then  be  my  task  to  satisfy  your  distrust,  and 
to  make  you  feel  that  you  can,  become  mine  without  doing 
violence  to  your  own  sense  of  duty.  I  repeat,  I  am  yours 
unchangeably.  I  bind  myself  to  perfect  loyalty  to  you, 
for  all  the  future." 

She  walked  by  his  side  in  silence.  They  reached  a 
part  of  the  grounds  where  the  walk,  emerging  into  a 
broader  one,  brought  them  into  view  of  the  house ;  and 


DE   VANE.  395 

Esther,  turning  to  him,  said :  "  I  must  take  leave  of  you 
now.  I  have  yet  a  commission  to  execute  with  my  little 
girls.'1 

"Then  I  must  bid  you  good  morning.  A  thousand 
thanks,  Esther,  for  your  frankness.  It  would  have  made 
me  very  unhappy  to  distrust  you.  I  shall  soon  see  you 
again.  Good  morning !" 

"  Good  morning !"  said  Esther,  extending  her  hand  to 
him. 

He  clasped  it  warmly,  and,  turning  away,  passed  out 
from  Leasowes  into  the  great,  busy  world.  His  emotions 
were  not  sufficiently  well  defined  to  enable  him  to  feel 
either  exhilarated  or  depressed.  He  was  deeply  moved. 
The  whole  grand  nature  of  the  man  was  roused.  His 
abounding  love  swept,  like  a  rising  flood,  every  thing  be 
fore  it ;  but  the  sky  which  overarched  it,  was  not  cloudless. 
Like  a  landscape  through  which  the  Rhine  pours  its  re 
joicing  waters,  bright  with  the  summer's  sun,  and  yet 
sometimes  darkened  and  turned  out  of  its  course  by 
overshadowing  mountains,  so  the  current  of  his  soul  ran. 
He  felt  that  he  was  loved,  and  yet  he  was  not  accepted. 
Great  barriers  rose  between  him  and  the  woman  he  adored. 
Could  they  ever  be  removed  ?  He  had  striven  to  cheer 
Esther,  but  he  could  not  conceal  from  himself  the  diffi 
culties  in  his  way.  His  father's  indomitable  pride  of  fam 
ily,  his  utter  prejudice  against  the  religious  sect  to  which 
Esther  belonged ;  Esther's  own  womanly  pride  and  self- 
respect,  and  her  gentle  but  unswerving  sense  of  duty  ;  all 
this  troubled  him.  Still  he  was  loved,  and  there  was  rap 
ture  in  the  thought.  He  walked  into  the  main  street,  and 
entered  the  book-store  of  Mr.  Midler*  The  richly-bound 
volumes  on  the  shelves,  the  new  tempting  books  on  the 
table,  attracted  and  cheered  him.  How  vividly  he  re 
called  his  meeting  and  conversation  with  Esther,  upon  this 
very  spot,  twelve  months  before  !  A  beautiful  edition  of 


396  DE   VANE. 

Milton's  poetical  works,  in  two  volumes,  just  imported 
from  England,  lay  before  him,  and,  turning  its  pages,  he 
found  the  passage  to  which  he  had  called  the  attention  of 
Waring  at  that  time.  He  read  it  again — it  charmed  him  ; 
and,  stepping  to  the  counter,  he  requested  Mr.  Miiller  to 
have  the  volumes  sent  to  his  room. 

"  This  is  a  splendid  edition,  Mr.  De  Vane,"  said  Mr. 
Miiller.  "  The  finest  I  have  ever  seen.  But  I  thought  you 
had  Milton's  works  entire — a  very  handsome  edition  that 
I  imported  for  you,  some  time  since." 

"  Yes,"  said  De  Vane  ;  "  I  have  the  set  to  which  you 
refer,  but  I  intend  these  volumes  for  a  friend." 

"  I  hope  your  friend  will  appreciate  them,  sir.  There 
is  nothing  like  them  in  this  country,  and  they  are  so  ex 
pensive  that  I  was  afraid  to  duplicate  them." 

De  Vane  returned  to  his  lodgings,  and  wrote  a  note  to 
Esther,  to  accompany  the  edition  of  Milton  which  he  had 
just  purchased: 

"  I  send  you,  Esther,  the  accompanying  volumes. 
Please  accept  them.  The  Paradise  Lost  is  succeeded  by 
the  Paradise  Regained.  Woman  cheered  man  in  his  ex 
pulsion  from  the  Eastern  garden,  and  helped  him  to  find 
his  way  to  a  brighter  realm.  I  can  not  look  forward  to 
the  path  which  my  feet  must  tread  through  this  wide 
world,  with  any  thing  like  hope,  unless  you  consent  to 
walk  by  my  side.  Cheerfully  then  should  I  pursue  it, 
with  an  humble  trust  that  with  such  companionship,  and 
Providence  my  guide,  I  should  attain  that  blissful  seat  of 
which  Milton  sings.  Always  yours, 

"  GEOKGE  DE  VANE. 

"  Saturday  morning." 

He  sent  Tully  with  the  package,  who,  returning  after 
some  time,  reported  that  he  had  waited  for  Miss  Words 
worth,  as  she  was  not  in  when  he  first  called  at  the  house, 


DE   VANE.  397 

and  he  handed  his  master  a  note.     De  Vane  opened  it,  and 
read : 

"Thanks.  ESTHER  WORDSWORTH." 

He  laid  it  away,  counting  it,  brief  as  it  was,  a  precious 
thing. 

Waring  came  in,  and  asked  him  what  he  had  been  doing 
,  with  himself  all  the  morning. 

"  I  have  been  walking,"  said  De  Vane. 

"  That  is  very  indefinite,"  said  Waring.  "  Where  have 
you  been  walking  ?  I  went  to  the  College  a  little  while, 
and  when  I  came  back  you  were  gone.  Caesar  was  ignor 
ant  of  your  whereabouts,  and  Tully  was  as  obscure  as  an 
oracle." 

"  Oh  !"  said  De  Vane  laughing,  "  I  did  not  confide  to 
them  my  plans  when  I  walked  out,  and  of  course  they 
could  only  offer  conjectures  as  to  my  locality." 

"  Yes,  and  I  met  Miss  Godolphin  driving,  and  she  could 
give  no  account  of  you.  She  said  she  had  just  been  at 
Leasowes,  and  you  were  not  there." 

"  Indeed  !"  said  De  Vane.  "  Was  she  searching  for 
me?" 

"  Oh  !  I  suppose  not,"  said  Waring ;  "  but  not  finding 
you  on  the  street,  I  fancied  that  you  might  have  called 
on  the  ladies,  but  she  assured  me  that  she  had  just  left 
Miss  Wordsworth,  and  that  she  had  not  seen  you." 

"So  I  am  discharged  from  that  suspicion,"  said  De 
Vane ;  "  acquitted  upon  the  strength  of  circumstantial 
evidence.  But  what  did  Miss  Godolphin  have  to  say  for 
herself?" 

"  Nothing  very  special,"  said  Waring.  "  She  was  in 
her  carriage,  and  I  stood  conversing  with  her  on  the  side 
of  the  street." 

"  So,  when  I  am  taking  my  morning  walk,  you  are  look- 


398  DE  VANE. 

ing  up  the  ladies,"  said  De  Vane.  "  You  must  take  me 
•frith  you  hereafter." 

"  I  should  have  been  happy  to  do  so  this  time ;  bat  I 
had  no  idea  that  I  should  have  the  good  fortune  to  fall  in 
with  any  of  them." 

"Waring,"  said,De  Vane,  "let  us  take  a  ride  this  even 
ing.  Oar  horses  are  rested,  and  it  will  do  them  good,  as 
well  as  ourselves,  to  take  the  exercise." 

"  Very  good,"  said  Waring.  "  Then  I  will  go  to  Tom- 
linson's  at  once,  and  purchase  my  bridle  and  saddle." 

"I  will  go  with  you,"  said  De  Vane.  "I  think  I  com 
prehend  those  things." 

So  they  went  to  Tomlinson's,  and  looked  through  the 
establishment.  Waring  selected  a  light  bridle  and  an 
English  saddle,  under  De  Vane's  counsel,  and  they  were 
sent  forthwith  to  the  livery-stable,  for  Ivanhoe. 

The  evening  came,  and  De  Vane  and  Waring  mounted 
their  horses.  They  took  the  road  leading  to  Mrs.  Haber- 
sham's  country-seat,  Clearbrook. 

The  ride  exhilarated  them.  Never  had  Waring  felt  the 
same  activity  in  a  horse  that  he  found  in  Ivanhoe.  The 
clear  springy  walk,  the  vigor  and  elasticity  of  motion,  the 
perfect  ease  with  which  the  animal  moved,  whether  in  a 
slow  gait  or  in  a  gallop,  made  the  exercise  delightful. 

"He  is  superb,  De  Vane !"  exclaimed  Waring. 

"  I  am  pleased  that  you  like  him,"  said  De  Vane.  "  There 
are  few  finer  horses." 

"  I  know  none,"  said  Waring.  "  I  positively  believe 
him  to  be  superior  to  Manfred." 

"  I  have  not  yet  seen  Manfred,  you  know,"  said  De  Vane. 
"  Is  he  really  very  fine  ?" 

"  Beautiful,"  said  Waring.  "  I  thought  him  unrivaled, 
until  I  saw  Ivanhoe." 

"  The  horse  I  am  riding,"  said  De  Vane,  "  is  a  thorough 
bred.  Have  you  observed  his  action  ?" 


DE   VANE.  399 

"It  is  fine,"  said  Waring,  "his  stride  is  remarkable." 

"  Yes,"  said  De  Vane,  "  and  active  as  he  is,  he  possesses 
uncommon  power.  See  how  his  shoulder  slopes ;  and  his 
long  arm,  and  shortness  from  the  knee  to  the  lower  joint, 
with  his  muscle,  mark  him  as  a  fast  horse." 

He  was  a  superb  animal,  and  the  ease  with  which  De 
Vane  controlled  him,  showed  him  to  be  a  perfect  horse 
man. 

The  stream  which  flows  through  Mrs.  Habersham's 
grounds,  winds  across  the  road,  and  is  so  transparent  that 
its  golden  sands  may  be  seen  at  the  bottom,  while  its 
waters  wash  the  axles  of  vehicles  passing  through  it ;  and 
those  who  rode  or  drove  from  the  town  usually  passed 
through  it  in  their  excursions,  and  then,  after  a  shorter  or 
longer  advance  upon  the  road  beyond,  just  as  their  incli 
nations  prompted,  returned.  Just  as  De  Vane  and  Waring 
reached  the  stream,  a  light  open  carriage  drove  into  it. 
Miss  Godolphin  and  Esther  were  seated  in  the  carriage, 
and  the  gentlemen  drew  up  their  horses,  to  allow  the  ve 
hicle  to  pass. 

"  Ah  !  gentlemen,  why  were  you  not  an  hour  earlier  ?" 
exclaimed  Miss  Godolphin.  "  We  have  made  a  delightful 
visit  to  Clearbrook." 

"  Plow  unkind  not  to  invite  us  !"  said  Waring. 

"  Unkind,  indeed  !  How  ungallant  not  to  invite  us  to 
join  you  on  horseback !"  she  exclaimed.  "  I  could  not 
have  supposed,  Mr.  De  Vane,  that  you  would  overlook  us." 

De  Vane  bowed  low,  something  of  a  conscious  look 
appearing  in  Esther's  face,  as  their  eyes  met,  and  he  said : 

"I  assure  you,  Miss  Godolphin,  that  it  would  have 
afforded  us  both  the  greatest  pleasure  to  join  you  in  a  ride 
if  we  had  supposed  that  it  would  be  agreeable  to  you  to 
permit  us  to  do  so  this  evening.  We  arc  just  exercising 
our  horses,  and  hope  early  next  week  to  attend  you." 

"  Shall  we  pardon  them,  Miss   Wordsworth,  and   su£ 


400  DE  VANE. 

for  them  to  show  by  their  good  conduct  that  they 
merit  it  ?" 

"  I  think,"  said  Esther,  "  that  we  must  accept  the  invi 
tation  to  ride  next  week.  Shall  we  not  ?" 

"  Very  well,  gentlemen,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  will 
you  have  the  kindness  to  name  the  day  when  we  shall  go 
forth  au  cheval  ?" 

"  Would  Tuesday  be  agreeable  to  you  ?"  asked  De  Vane. 

"  Let  it  be  Tuesday,  then,  Miss  Wordsworth,  if  you 
have  no  engagements  with  which  it  will  interfere." 

"  None  whatever,"  said  Esther. 

"  Then,  gentlemen,  it  shall  be  Tuesday." 

De  Vane  and  Waring  both  bowed. 

"  What  a  very  fine  horse  you  are  riding,  Mr.  De  Vane," 
said  Miss  Godolphin.  "  He  looks  English." 

"  It  shows  how  admirable  your  judgment  is,"  said  De 
Vane.  "  He  is  of  the  best  English  blood." 

"  He  is  superb,"  she  said. 

"  And  yours  is  a  beautiful  creature,  Mr.  Waring,"  said 
Esther.  "I  really  think  him  almost  equal  to  Manfred." 

"  Ah  !  Mr.  De  Vane,  do  you  hear  that  ?"  said  Waring. 
"  You  are  not  to  carry  off  the  honors  without  my  contest 
ing  the  matter  with  you." 

"  You  have  always  borne  the  honors  away  from  me," 
said  De  Vane. 

"  But  he  shall  not  do  so  this  time,  without  a  divided 
vote,"  said  Miss  Godolphin.  "Mr.  Waring's  horse  is 
beautiful ;  but  I  give  the  preference  to  the  bay." 

"  The  best  judges,  ladies,  are  divided  in  opinion  in  re 
gard  to  the  two  horses,  just  as  you  are,"  said  De  Vane. 

"Mr.  De  Vane's  judgment  and  taste,"  said  Waring, 
"  were  shown  in  the  selection  of  both.  He  was  generous 
enough  to  present  this  horse  to  me  ;  and  if  he  had  offered 
nie  the  choice,  I  should  certainly  have  selected  him." 

"Ah  !"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  bowing  to  De  Vane,  "  your 


DE   VANE.  401 

judgment,  your  taste,  and — what  is  worth  far  more  than 
either — your  friendship,  Mr.  De  Vane,  are  all  shown,  in 
presenting  to  Mr.  Waring  so  beautiful  an  animal,  and  one 
which  he  so  entirely  approves." 

De  Yane  lifted  his  hat  in  acknowledgment  of  the  com 
pliment. 

The  ladies  then  bowed  to  the  gentlemen,  and  drove  on. 

Waring  and  De  Vane  rode  through  the  stream,  and 
passing  some  short  distance  beyond,  turned  their  horses' 
heads  toward  the  town. 

"  Miss  Godolphin  and  Miss  Wordsworth  seem  to  pass 
much  of  their  time  with  each  other,"  said  De  Vane. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Waring.  "  It  has  been  so  throughout 
the  summer  ;  and  I  am  happy  to  observe  it.  Miss  Words 
worth's  influence  over  Miss  Godolphin  is  steadily  increas 
ing,  and  it  must  be  for  good.  I  said  to  you,  some  days 
since,  that  Miss  Godolphin  felt  great  concern  upon  the  sub 
ject  of  religion,  and  I  attribute  it  to  the  influence  of  her 
friend.  Miss  Wordsworth  sent  to  England  for  a  copy  of 
Lady  Huntingdon's  Life,  which  she  presented  to  Miss  Go- 
dolphin,  and  she  has  read  it  with  the  greatest  interest." 

"  Miss  Wordsworth,"  said  De  Vane,  "  is  a  Methodist, 
and  holds  the  views  of  that  people  conscientiously  and 
firmly  ;  but,  I  trust,  she  is  not  bigoted." 

"  Not  in  the  least  so,"  said  Waring  ;  "  no  one  can  be 
further  from  it.  But  she  holds  with  the  tenacity  of  perfect 
conviction  and  indubitable  faith,  the  doctrine  that  one  who 
enters  the  kingdom  of  heaven  must  repent,  and  believe  in 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  She  comprehends  that  no  super 
ficial  work  will  do  ;  that  there  must  be  forgiveness  of  sins 
and  a  change  of  heart  before  one  can  be  acceptable  to  God." 

"  And  is  that  essential,  Waring  ?  May  not  a  pure  life 
and  good  deeds  be  acceptable  to  the  Deity,  without  abso 
lute  conformity  to  a  creed  ?" 

"  De  Vane,"  said  Waring,  "  read  the  third  of  St.  John's 


402  DE  VANE. 

Gospel.  Read  it  searchingly,  and  you  will  be  satisfied  that 
your  question  can  be  answered  only  in  one  way  :  '  Except 
a  man  be  born  again,  he  can  not  see  the  kingdom  of  God.' 
You  will  observe  that  when  the  Jewish  ruler,  who  seems 
to  have  been  a  man  of  singular  candor  and  directness,  ex 
claimed  impatiently  against  what  appeared  to  him  an  im 
possibility,  unless  the  doctrine  of  the  transmigration  of 
souls  were  true,  our  Lord  corrects  his  error  by  assuring 
him  that  what  is  born  of  flesh  must  be  flesh,  and  that  what 
is  born  of  the  spirit  must  be  spirit.  In  other  words,  if 
it  were  possible  for  a  man  to  be  reproduced,  inheriting  his 
fallen  nature,  and  living  under  any  improvement  of  his 
physical  condition,  any  degree  of  high-toned  civilization, 
that  could  bring  him  into  no  nearer  relation  to  God,  who 
is  not  only  good  but  holy  ;  and  that  it  was  a  spiritual  birth 
to  which  he  referred — a  thorough  change,  to  be  wrought 
in  us  by  his  Spirit :  so  tllat  it  might  be  said  of  our  moral 
nature,  Old  things  are  passed  away,  behold  all  things  are 
become  new." 

De  Vane  rode  for  some  time  in  silence.  Pie  was  profound 
ly  impressed  by  the  fresh,  clear  view  of  conversion  which 
Waring  had  presented.  Waring  had  quite  too  thorough 
a  knowledge  of  human  nature  and  of  De  Vane's  peculiar 
line  of  thought  to  attempt  to  subdue  him  by  mere  author 
ity,  by  referring  to  miracles  as  authenticating  the  divine 
mission  of  our  Lord,  and  demanding  that  his  teachings 
should  be  accepted  upon  that  basis.  He  comprehended 
how  thoroughly  De  Vane  was  imbued  with  the  German 
idea  of  accounting  for  our  Lord's  miracles  upon  natural 
grounds ;  as,  for  instance,  explaining  that  stupendous  work 
of  feeding  five  thousand  persons — faint,  wreary,  and  hun 
gering  for  food — by  supposing  that  a  caravan,  opportunely 
passing  with  a  large  supply  of  bread,  furnished  it  to  the 
apostles  for  the  use  of  the  Master.  And  how  fully  he  was 
acquainted  with  the  acute  philosophy  of  Hume,  which  in- 


DE  VANE.  403 

volved  all  reliance  upon  human  testimony  in  impenetrable 
clouds,  and  made  even  the  eternal  granite  a  quagmire 
under  the  tread  of  human  feet  seeking  some  stable  foun 
dation  for  their  hope  of  immortality ;  and  he  therefore  pre 
ferred  to  rest  his  argument  upon  the  incontestable  basis 
that,  God,  being  holy  and  man  sinful,  there  could  be  no 
reconciliation  without  a  change  of  nature  ;  for  without  it, 
there  could  be  no  harmony. 

"  In  the  same  connection,"  Waring  proceeded  to  say, 
"  you  will  observe  that  our  Lord  says,  by  way  of  encour 
agement  to  the  ruler,  who  had  sought  an  interview  with 
him  by  night,  '  For  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave 
his  only-begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in  him 
should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life ;'  and  thus  re 
vealed  to  him  the  single  condition  of  salvation — trust  in 
the  great  sacrifice  offered  for  the  sins  of  the  whole  world." 

"  You  speak  of  a  sacrifice,"  said  De  Vane.  "  Where  is 
its  necessity  ?  God  is  an  absolute  sovereign.  Why  might 
he  not  pardon  unconditionally,  and  save  the  whole  race  ?" 

"  Ah  !"  said  Waring,  "  that  is  the  grandest  problem  in 
the  universe.  We  may  not  comprehend  its  whole  extent, 
no  more  than  we  can  see  the  entire  disk  of  an  orb  like 
Jupiter,  or  the  extent  of  a  belt  like  that  which  encircles 
Saturn ;  but  of  this  we  may  be  quite  sure,  while  God  is 
an  absolute,  he  is  not  an  arbitrary  Sovereign.  His  govern 
ment  is  a  moral  one,  and  the  considerations  which  demand 
ed  a  sacrifice  for  a  guilty  world  relate  to  the  whole  realm 
of*  intelligent  being  embraced  within  the  divine  adminis 
tration.  Where  all  are  sinners,  as  our  race  are,  to  grant  no 
pardon  would  be  to  exterminate  the  beings  just  introduced 
into  the  circle  of  creation  ;  to  grant  unconditional  and 
universal  pardon  would  be  to  inaugurate  universal  license 
to  sin  and  rebellion,  and  to  overthrow  all  government ; 
and  to  select  a  part  of  the  race  capriciously,  as  objects  of 
the  divine  compassion,  would  inspire  no  respect  for  the 


4:04:  DE    VANE. 

government,  nor  veneration  for  the  Sovereign.  The  only 
plan  is  that  of  the  Gospel.  By  offering  as  a  victim  the  Son 
of  God,  who  suffered  vicariously,  the  just  for  the  unjust, 
every  thing  is  preserved  :  the  divine  administration  is  vin 
dicated  ;  sin  is  punished  in  the  most  impressive  and  dread 
form ;  and  the  offenders  are  encouraged  to  love  and  trust 
the  Almighty  Father,  who  gives  such  a  signal  proof  of 
reverence  for  his  own  law  and  love  for  our  race." 

Again  De  Vane  was  silent.     At  length  he  said  : 

"  These  are  dread  subjects  ;  they  areto  be  studied  pro 
foundly.  You  do  not  think  me  capable,  Waring,  of  re 
garding  them  lightly  ?" 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  Waring.  "  Your  trouble  is  in  as 
serting  the  supremacy  of  reason  over  subjects  which  lie 
beyond  the  range  of  its  largest  powers.  Depend  upon  it, 
we  need  a  revelation  to  instruct  us  in  invisible  things,  and 
we  must  limit  reason  to  an  investigation  of  the  claims  of 
any  disclosure  which  professes  to  be  of  divine  origin,  and 
not  venture  to  examine  the  truths  revealed  to  us  for  our 
instruction  by  any  standard  within  our  own  minds." 

They  were  entering  the  town,  and  the  descending  sun 
filled  the  heavens  with  its  glory.  The  tall  pines  were 
ablaze  with  its  lingering  beams,  and  the  clouds,  like  huge 
castles  or  vast  mountains,  wore  deeper  splendors  than  ever 
gilded  the  scenery,  even  of  Eastern  climes.  The  horsemen 
rode  on  silently,  both  feeling  tnat  disposition  to  meditation 
which  we  all  experience  under  the  deepening  shadows  of 
twilight,  as  we  see  night  descend  upon  the  earth. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

"PERFECT  let  us  walk  before  Thee — 
Walk  in  white 
To  the  sight 
Of  thy  heavenly  glory  !" 

CHARLES  WESLEY. 

SUCH  was  the  confidence  between  Esther  and  Mrs.  Spring 
field,  that  nothing  affecting  thfe  happiness  of  either  could 
occur  without  beingxinade  known  to  the  other. 

Of  course,  Esther  communicated  to  her  aunt  what  had 
taken  place  on  Saturday.  She  suffered  the  Sabbath  to  pass 
before  she  mentioned  the  subject,  seeking  in  the  mean 
while  that  guidance  which  the  Father  gives  to  all  humble 
and  trusting  souls.  Mrs.  Springfield  was  deeply  affected 
when  she  learned  that  Esther,  adhering  firmly  to  her  sense 
of  duty,  had  declined  to  enter  into  any  engagement  with 
De  Yane.  She  comprehended  the  struggle  through  which 
her  niece  had  passed.  She  interpreted  her  heart  rightly, 
and  knew  how  loyal  it  was  to  De  Vane,  at  the  very  mo 
ment  when  she  restrained  its  promptings,  and  silenced,  if 
she  could  not  still,  its  throbbings.  She  heartily  approved 
Esther's  course,  and  said  so  to  her,  cheering  her,  at  the 
same  time,  with  the  assurance  that  doubtless  all  would 
yet  be  well,  but  that,  in  any  event,  nothing  could  harm 
one  who  simply  followed  the  path  of  duty,  no  matter  how 
flinty  it  might  be  to  our  weary  feet.  Unselfish,  pure,  and 
wise,  this  noble  woman  counseled  her  niece  to  be  brave 
and  cheerful  ;  and  as  Esther,  unable  to  restrain  her  emo- 

(405) 


405  DE   VANE. 

tions,  bowed  her  face  on  her  aunt's  knees,  and  wept  as  if 
her  heart  were  breaking,  Mrs.  Springfield  caressed  her  ten 
derly,  and  waited  for  the  outburst  of  tears  to  pass  away 
before  she  spoke  to  her.  She  then  kissed  her  forehead, 
and  said : 

"Esther,  you  have  done  just  what  you  should  have 
done.  Nothing  of  principle  should  ever  be  yielded  in 
forming  such  a  relation  as  that  of  marriage ;  it  must  be 
altogether  pure.  Remember  we  are  a  peculiar  people. 
Let  the  great  world  form  alliances  from  motives  of  ambi 
tion  or  worldliness.  It  must  not  be  so  with  us.  We  are 
seeking  a  better  country,  that  is,  an  heavenly,  and  we  must 
connect  ourselves  in  such  close  relations  as  those  which 
marriage  creates,  only  with  those  who  will  walk  with  us. 
But  all  will  yet  be  well.  I  have  the  highest  respect  for 
Mr.  De  Vane,  and  my  confidence  in  the  nobleness  of  his 
nature  satisfies  me  that  he  will  find  the  right  way,  and  all 
will  be  overruled  for  the  best." 

Soothed,  if  not  cheered,  Esther  rose,  and  her  aunt  left 
her  to  compose  herself. 

Soon  after,  she  walked  to  Leasowes,  and  entered  cheer 
fully  upon  her  self-appointed  tasks. 

De  Vane  wrote  to  Mrs.  De  Vane  a  very  long  letter,  full 
of  ardor,  and  informing  her  of  the  precise  state  of  his  rela 
tions  to  Esther.  He  described,  in  glowing  terms,  her  char 
acter,  with  which  he  had  already  made  his  aunt  acquaint 
ed  ;  and  he  detailed  at  length  the  interview  of  Saturday, 
the  gentle  but  decided  refusal  to 'engage  herself  until  she 
was  assured  that  she  could  do  so  consistently  with  her 
self-respect  and  her  sense  of  duty.  He  urged  Mrs.  De 
Vane  to  break  the  matter  to  his  father,  and  to  impress 
upon  him  the  noble  nature  of  Miss  Wordsworth,  and  the 
purity  and  elevation  of  her  character.  He  assured  her, 
finally,  that  his  happiness  was  involved,  and  that  he  would 


DE  VANE.  407 

marry  no  other  woman  under  heaven,  if  he  did  not  marry 
Miss  Wordsworth. 

Mailing  his  letter,  he  awaited  a  reply  with  anxiety. 

In  the  mean  while,  he  entered  upon  his  studies  in  Mr. 
Clarendon's  office  with  new  energy.  His  life-tasks  were 
before  him,  and  they  roused  his  manhood. 

Mr.  Clarendon  was  gratified  to  see  the  ardor  with  which 
he  took  up  his  professional  labors,  and  encouraged  him  to 
the  utmost  of  his  power. 

Not  mercenary  himself,  he  did  not  limit  his  view  of  the 
legal  profession  to  its  money-yielding  capabilities,  but 
took  the  larger  and  more  generous  view,  which  Cicero 
entertained,  and  which  made  him  so  eminent  in  defense 
of  the  innocent,  and  so  resistless  in  prosecuting  the  guilty. 

Tuesday  evening  came,  and  Waring  and  De  Yane  joined 
Miss"'  Godolphin  and  Esther  in  the  equestrian  excursion 
agreed  on.  Without  any  preconcert,  Waring  and  Miss 
Godolphin  rode  in  advance,  and  De  Vane,  riding  with 
Esther,  followed  them,  the  party  taking  the  road  that 
led  most  directly  to  the  country ;  and  after  quitting  the 
town,  turning  toward  the  river,  they  pursued  its  course. 
De  Vane,  with  a  taste  for  fine  horses,  was  delighted  with 
Manfred,  and  he  observed  the  perfect  skill  with  which  Es 
ther  controlled  him,  spirited  as  he  was. 

"  Manfred  is  really  a  fine  animal,"  he  said ;  "  but  does 
he  never  give  you  trouble  ?" 

"  Not  now,"  replied  Esther.  "  When  I  first  rode  him, 
he  startled  me  by  his  fleetness,  dashing  off  sometimes  at 
great  speed,  as  if  he  rejoiced  in  his  strength ;  but  he  was 
never  vicious,  and  I  have  taught  him  to  yield  to  the  rein." 

"  Then  he  suits  you  perfectly,"  said  De  Vane.  "  I  have 
not  seen  a  finer  horse,  for,  the  saddle,  for  a  lady's  use." 

Miss  Godolphin  rode  a  very  handsome  black  horse,  and 
she  showed  to  the  greatest  advantage  in  her  rich,  dark 


408  DE  VANE. 

riding-dress,  and  her  splendid  hat,  with  its  plume — all 
in  harmony  with  her  style  of  beauty. 

"  I  am  happy  to  see,"  said  De  Vane,  "  that  Miss  Godol- 
phin  is  brighter  than  she  was  when  she  returned  from 
Europe.  Do  you  not  observe  it  ?" 

"  Oh !  yes,"  said  Esther.  "  The  shadow  is,  I  trust,  pass 
ing  away.  I  did  not  know,  until  she  spoke  to  me  upon 
the  subject  some  weeks  since,  what  she  had  suffered." 

"  Did  she  explain  every  thing  ?"  asked  De  Vane. 

"  With  perfect  unreserve  she  unfolded  her  history,  and 
I  comprehended  for  the  first  time  what  she  must  have  suf 
fered.  Have  you  ever  heard  it  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  De  Vane ;  "  I  learned  it  from  her  friend, 
Miss  Guilford,  whom  I  met  in  Virginia.  You  know,  of 
course,  that  they  were  in  Europe  together  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Esther,  "  I  have  heard  her  speak  of  Miss 
Guilford.  But  what  Miss  Godolphin  has  suffered  !  How 
dreadful  to  feel  what  she  has  endured  for  many,  many 
months !" 

"  She  has  accused  herself  needlessly,"  said  De  Vane. 
"  She  was  not  in  the  least  to  blame.  The  course  of  Sir 
George  Godolphin  was  harsh,  and  unworthy  of  him." 

Waring  and  Miss  Godolphin  had  reached  the  point  in 
the  road  leading  to  the  ferry,  where  the  two  gentlemen 
had  first  met  Mr.  Springfield  and  his  family ;  and  they 
drew  up  their  horses,  to  await  the  coming  of  De  Vane 
and  Esther. 

"  We  mark  the  progress  of  time  by  events,"  said  War 
ing,  as  they  reached  the  spot ;  "  and  you  may,  perhaps, 
not  have  forgotten,  Miss  Wordsworth,  that  some  twelve 
months  since  a  traveling-carriage  drove  up  this  road,  and 
the  party  following  it  were  arrested  by  two  young  gentle 
men  who  stood  in  the  highway  ?" 

"  Oh  !  yes,"  said  Esther,  coloring.     "  I  remember  it  per- 


DE  VANE.  409 

fectly  well.  Has  it  been  twelve  months  ?  It  scarcely 
seems  so  long." 

"  Twelve  months,  almost  to  a  day,"  said  Waring.  "  How 
swiftly  time  flies  !" 

"  Was  it  here,"  asked  Miss  Godolphin,  "  that  you  met 
Miss  Wordsworth  for  the  first  time,  Mr.  De  Vane  ?" 

"  Upon  this  very  spot,"  said  De  Yane.  "  Mr.  Waring 
and  I  were  taking  an  evening  walk,  and  we  stood  here  to 
admire  the  effect  of  the  light  upon  the  water  and  the  sur 
rounding  objects.  Mr.  Springfield  and  his  party  were 
just  returning  from  their  summer's  travel,  and  we  met 
them  here.  Really,  in  looking  back  to  it,  it  seems  as  if 
I  had  been  studying  one  of  Claude  Lorraine's  pictures ; 
and  I  can  scarcely  feel  that  the  scene  was  one  of  real  life. 
I  feel  as  if  I  had  known  Mr.  Springfield  and  his  family  all 
my  life." 

Miss  Godolphin  smiled.  Unconsciously,  De  Yane  had 
uttered  his  heart-thoughts,  and  only  said,  in  different  lan 
guage,  that  his  real  existence  had  only  begun  on  the  banks 
of  the  stream  which  flowed  before  them,  twelve  months 
before.  She  perfectly  comprehended  it,  but  she  forebore 
to  speak  her  thoughts.  Esther  was  present,  and  she  spared 
her.  What  is  life  until  the  heart  expands  ?  Like  plants 
that  are  full  of  verdure  and  brightness,  but  yield  no  fra 
grance,  until  suddenly  the  flower  bursts  into  beauty ;  so 
the  life,  exuberant  and  joyous  as  it  may  seem,  has  no 
real  meaning  until  the  soul  wakes  to  consciousness,  under 
the  power  of  some  great  sentiment. 

"The  scene  is  one  of  remarkable  beauty,"  said  Miss 
Godolphin.  "  Observe  that  light  upon  the  rapids.  The 
water  flashes  like  molten  silver,  and  the  spray  that  rises, 
catching  the  slanting  sunbeams,  is  like  a  shower  of  tiny 
pearls.  See  that  wheel  of  the  mill  above  us.  How  the 
glancing  water  reflects  the  light,  as  if  it  were  draped  with 
liquid  mirrors,  while  the  wild  vines,  climbing  the  great 
18 


410  DE  VANE. 

trees  on  the  river-bank,  catch  the  sunbeams,  and  hang  over 
the  waters  like  a  canopy  of  green  and  gold !  The  whole 
picture  is  Southern." 

"  Very  beautiful !"  said  Esther. 

"  After  all,"  said  De  Vane,  "  I  like  ferry-boats  better 
than  bridges.  It  is  a  little  voyage  that  one  makes  be 
tween  the  two  banks.  You  are  upon  the  water  and  enjoy 
its  current,  and  the  very  exertion  which  it  requires  to 
overcome  its  swiftness,  imparts  a  pleasing  sense  of  triumph." 

"  Unless  you  are  in  haste  to  get  over,"  said  Waring  ; 
"  then  the  delay  is  an  annoyance." 

"  Oh !  of  course.  I  speak  of  pleasure  excursions,"  said 
De  Vane.  "  Business  is  quite  another  thing.  But  observe 
those  two  men.  How  vigorously  they  exert  themselves  in 
bringing  the  boat  over  !  The  carriage  and  the  horses,  and 
the  foot-passengers,  are  heavy  enough  to  make  it  neces 
sary  to  put  out  strength  in  accomplishing  the  voyage ; 
and  when  they  reach  this  bank,  a  sense  of  relief  will  be 
experienced,  as  if  another  dangerous  adventure  in  life  were 
well  over." 

"  On  the  Rhine,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  there  are 
bridges  of  boats,  and  when  a  vessel  approaches,  a  space 
is  made  sufficiently  wide  for  it  to  pass,  by  dropping  some 
of  the  boats  out  of  the  current,  and  reconstructing  the 
bridge  after  it  has  gone  by,  bringing  the  boats  back  to 
their  place.  The  scene  is  full  of  animation,  and  the  ar 
rangement  in  every  way  convenient,  affording  a  safe  inter 
communication  between  the  two  banks  of  the  stream,  and 
yet  offering  no  obstruction  to  commerce." 

"  I  think,"  said  Waring,  "  I  should  prefer  a  bridge  of 
that  kind  to  a  ferry,  however  picturesque." 

"  Oh  !  certainly,  if  you  intend  to  apply  your  utilitarian 
philosophy  to  the  beauties  of  nature,"  said  De  Vane.  "  But 
then  you  would  do  better  to  construct  your  bridges  as 
they  do  upon  the  Thames — grandly — and  make  them  beau- 


DE   VANE.  411 

tiful  objects  in  the  landscape,  compelling  the  steamers  to 
lower  their  smoke-pipes  when  they  pass  through  the  arches. 
But  I  insist  upon  keeping  some  part  of  the  realm  of  nature 
free  from  the  encroachments  of  commercial  despotism." 

"  Well,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  I  think  with  Mr.  De 
Vane.  Long  may  our  ferry-boat  ply  between  these  banks  !" 

"  I  am  sorry  to  disturb  your  plans,"  said  Waring,  "  but 
I  learn  that  an  enterprising  set  of  people  have  made  up 
their  minds  to  throw  a  bridge  over  the  river  very  soon." 

"  Then,"  said  De  Vane,  "  we  must  preserve  this  picture 
in  the  chambers  of  memory,  for  it  is  one  of  great  beauty." 

They  rode  on,  making  a  circuit  about  the  town,  passing 
beyond  the  College,  and  returning  by  the  way  of  the  sand 
hills. 

The  party  rode  as  much  together  as  possible,  and  the 
conversation  was  general  and  animated.  They  reached 
home  exhilarated  with  the  exercise,  and  full  of  the  joy 
which  youth  feels  in  the  present,  while  hope  illumines  the 
future  with  its  strong  light. 

On  Thursday  morning,  at  the  breakfast-table,  Mrs.  Bowen 
reminded  Waring  that  the  love-feast  was  to  be  held  the 
next  evening,  informing  him  that  it  had  been  announced  the 
preceding  evening,  at  the  close  of  the  service. 

"  Yes,"  said  Waring,  "  I  might  have  forgotten  it,  if  you 
had  not  named  it.  I  thank  you  for  reminding  me." 

"  A  love-feast  !"  said  De  Yane.     "  What  is  that  ?" 

"  It  is  a  meeting,"  said  Waring,  "  held  by  the  Method 
ists  once  in  three  months,  in  which  each  one  who  feels  dis 
posed  to  relate  his  experience  as  a  Christian,  may  do  so 
without  reserve." 

"  Indeed !"  said  De  Yane.  "  Do  explain  it  to  me. 
I  confess  that  my  curiosity  is  roused." 

"We  hold,"  said  Waring,  "a  conference  once  in  the 
year,  where  the  preachers  assemble  to  report  the  results 
of  their  labors,  and  receive  from  the  Bishop  who  presides, 


412  DE  VANE. 

their  appointments  for  the  following  year.  This  is  called 
the  annual  conference,  and  it  presents  a  scene  of  high 
moral  interest.  At  times  it  rises  into  sublimity.  A  body 
brought  together  from  extensive  fields  of  labor,  composed 
of  men  of  intellect  and  character,  submit  themselves  to 
the  Bishop,  who,  surrounded  by  several  ministers — elders 
in  charge  of  districts— as  a  cabinet  to  advise  him,  looks 
out  upon  the  whole  work  embraced  within  the  bounds  of 
the  conference,  and  assigns  them  to  such  posts  as  he 
may  think  best  for  the  great  cause.  A  rigid  examination 
of  character  is  made,  and  the  minister  learns  his  appoint 
ment  for  the  first  time  from  the  lips  of  the  Bishop,  who, 
at  the  close  of  the  conference,  reads  out  the  list.  Then 
these  presiding  elders  hold  in  each  of  their  districts — into 
which  each  conference  is  subdivided — a  conference  every 
three  months,  called  a  quarterly  conference,  composed  of 
the  official  members  of  the  circuit  or  station,  where  the 
proper  business  is  transacted  and  character  is  examined. 
On  the  Friday  preceding,  a  meeting  of  the  members  of  the 
church  is  held,  with  the  view  of  relating  to  each  other  their 
experience.  Ancient  usages  are  adhered  to  by  us.  The 
early  Christians  had  their  feasts  of  charity — the  Method 
ists  hold  their  feasts  of  love.  None  are  admitted  but 
Christians,  and  serious  persons  who  request  the  privilege. 
The  doors  are  rigidly  closed,  and  the  world  shut  out. 
Water  and  bread  are  handed  around,  and  each  one  partakes 
of  it,  in  token  of  good-will,  felt  by  each  toward  all.  Then 
every  one  rises  and  speaks  who  may  be  disposed,  briefly 
stating  his  experience  as  a  Christian." 

De  Yane  listened  with  great  interest  to  Waring's  de 
scription,  and  then  said,  when  he  had  concluded : 

"  I  should  be  happy,  Waring,  to  attend  the  love-feast 
to-morrow  evening.  Can  I  be  permitted  to  do  so  ?" 

"  I  will  inquire,"  said  Waring.  "  The  Presiding  Elder 
is  to  be  here  to-morrow,  and  I  will  apply  to  him  for  a 
ticket." 


DE   VANE.  413 

"  Thank  you,"  said  De  Vane.  "  I  really  wish  to  attend." 

Mrs.  Bo  wen  heard  this  with  amazement.  The  idea 
that  De  Vane  should  desire  to  attend  a  love-feast,  aston 
ished  her.  She  admired  him.  extravagantly,  and  had  often 
felt  saddened  by  his  indifference  to  the  services  of  the 
Church.  She  prayed  for  him  fervently,  and  was  now  inex 
pressibly  thankful  that  he  felt  a  desire  to  attend  one  of 
those  meetings,  peculiar  to  her  people,  and  which  she 
esteemed  so  highly. 

Waring  obtained  permission  for  De  Vane  to  attend  the 
love-feast,  and  after  carry  tea,  they  accompanied  Mrs. 
Bowen  to  the  Methodist  meeting-house.  It  was  soon 
pretty  well  filled,  quite  a  large  number  of  persons  belong 
ing  to  other  churches  having  been  admitted.  The  Presid 
ing  Elder  was  the  Rev.  William  Chalmers,  an  educated 
and  accomplished  gentleman,  and  a  preacher  of  the  highest 
order ;  and  his  presence  never  failed  to  attract  many  per 
sons,  not  members  of  the  church,  to  his  ministrations. 
After  the  introductory  prayer  and  hymn,  Mr.  Chalmers 
explained,  briefly,  the  nature  of  the  meeting  ;  and  the  bread 
and  water  were  handed  to  every  one  in  the  house,  all  par 
taking. 

Mr.  Chalmers  then  rose  and  related  his  experience,  which, 
without  being  too  minute,  was  pointed  and  deeply  inter 
esting.  He  had  been  converted  when  young,  and  had  en 
tered  upon  the  work  of  the  ministry  immediately  upon 
quitting  college.  His  first  attempt  to  persuade  others  was 
in  exhortations  following  the  sermon  of  some  of  the  preach 
ers,  and  he  had  continued  to  experience  a  clear  manifesta 
tion  of  the  favor  of  God  up  to  the  present  moment,  enjoy 
ing  a  constant  sense  of  his  acceptance. 

His  remarks  were  very  impressive,  the  good  taste  which 
characterized,  and  th'e  fervor  which  imbued  them,  making 
them  felt  by  every  one.  De  Vane  had  never  before  heard 
any  thing  like  it.  It  was  as  if  he  had  been  suddenly  intro 
duced  into  the  presence  of  the  early  Christians. 


414  DE  VANE. 

After  Mr.  Chalmers  had  resumed  his  seat,  some  moments 
of  silence  ensued.  Then  a  venerable  man  rose  from  his 
seat  on  one  of  the  side-benches,  and  spoke  for  about  five 
minutes.  He  had  been  a  member  of  the  Church  for  more 
than  forty  years,  was  still  enjoying  a  clear  sense  of  the 
divine  approval,  and  was  prepared,  at  any  hour,  to  pass 
over  the  waters  which  his  feet  already  touched,  and  enter 
the  home  of  the  blessed. 

As  he  took  his  seat,  a  hearty  "Amen !"  was  uttered  by 
several  of  the  leading  members,  and  a  single  stanza  of  a 
hymn  was  sung. 

Two  or  three  others  followed,  speaking  with  distinctness 
and  confidence  of  their  sense  of  sins  forgiven,  and  of  as 
sured  peace. 

Among  the  females,  there  now  rose  up  one.  She  was 
tall  and  middle-aged,  and  dressed  with  marked  simplicity 
and  neatness.  She,  too,  spoke  for  a  few  moments  of  her 
religious  state,  describing  it  as  full  of  peace  and  hope. 
She  was  followed  by  a  much  younger  person,  who  spoke 
with  such  marked  intelligence,  that  every  one  heard  her 
with  interest.  She  described  her  conversion,  the  intense 
wretchedness  which  had  preceded  it,  and  the  rapture 
which  followed ;  stating  her  present  peace  as  the  result  of 
an  unswerving  trust  in  God,  and  realizing,  as  she  said, 
the  truth  of, the  promise,  uttered  by  an  inspired  prophet, 
"  Thou  shalt  keep  him  in  perfect  peace,  whose  mind  is 
staid  on  thee ; "  and  as  she  resumed  her  seat,  great  emo 
tion  was  exhibited  throughout  the  assemblage.  The  testi 
mony  delivered  was  so  clear,  simple,  fervent,  and  in  such 
perfect  taste,  both  as  regarded  manner  and  language,  that 
it  was  not  only  above  criticism,  but  it  found  its  way 
into  the  depths  of  every  listening  soul.  Mr.  Chalmers  in 
stantly  sang  a  stanza,  descriptive  of  the  triumph  of  a  re 
newed  soul,  beginning  with  the  line, 

"  Ye  winge'd  seraphs,  fly ! " 


DE  VANE.  415 

and  it  was  taken  up  by  others,  who  swelled  the  sound 
until  it  filled  the  house  with  its  exulting  rapture. 

"  It  is  good  to  be  here !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Chalmers. 

"  Amen  !"  responded  many  voices. 

The  pastor  of  the  church  now  rose,  and  spoke  for  a  few 
minutes.  He  had  been  converted  when  young,  and  had 
entered  thtTministry  at  eighteen.  It  was  to  him  a  happy 
work  in  the  midst  of  all  its  toils  and  responsibilities,  and 
he  had  no  other  aim  in  life  but  to  preach  the  Word  and 
honor  the  name  of  the  MASTEE.  A  deep  sympathy  with 
his  remarks  was  exhibited,  and  as  he  sat  down,  Mr.  Chal 
mers  exclaimed :  "  The  Lord  bless  thee,  my  brother,  and 
cause  his  fnr-o  to  shine  upon  thee  !"  "Amen !"  was  uttered 
all  over  the  house.  Mr.  Springfield  rose,  and  spoke  for  a 
few  minutes,  with  marked  clearness  and  fervor.  He  re 
ferred  to  his  conversion — which  hud  occurred  just  as  he 
attained  the  age  of  twenty-one — and  his  abiding  sense  of 
pardon  and  peace.  He  looked  to  the  future  with  hope,  for 
he  had  learned  to  trust,  as  well  as  to  obey.  He  was  heard 
with  deep  interest.  Several  of  the  leading  members  of  the 
church  followed  in  quick  succession,  speaking  the  lan 
guage  of  faith  and  hope,  and  several  describing  the  man 
ner  of  their  conversion,  referring  to  the  hour  and  the  place. 

A  very  young  man  rose.  He  was  from  the  low  country, 
and  was  present  casually,  traveling  for  a  few  weeks  with 
Mr.  Chalmers  around  his  district ;  and  he  felt  that  it  would 
be  no  intrusion  if  he  added  his  testimony  to  the  goodness 
of  his  redeeming  Lord.  He  described  his  awakening  and 
his  conversion,  and  he  said:  "After  peace  entered  my 
soul,  the  whole  aspect  of  nature  was  changed ;  the  heavens 
were  bright,  and  the  trees  seemed  to  wave  their  branches 
in  praise  of  their  Creator."  He  stated  that  it  was  his  pur 
pose  to  give  his  life  to  the  task  of  inviting  sinners  to 
the  Lord  whom  he  had  found  so  gracious,  and  to  identify 
himself  with  the  only  cause  which  was  worthy  of  the  en- 


416  DE   VANE. 

tire  consecration  of  an  immortal  being — a  cause  which 
would  display  its  beneficent  triumphs,  when  heroes,  and 
statesmen,  and  empires,  and  all  human  glory  had  disap 
peared. 

"  The  Lord  guide  and  strengthen  thee,  and  give  thee 
good  success !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Chalmers,  which  was  re 
sponded  to  by  many  voices,  uttering  an  earnest  Amen ! 

Mr.  Chalmers  now  rose,  and  remarked  that  it  was  time 
to  bring  the  meeting  to  a  close.  That  it  had  been  one  of 
marked  interest,  and  he  trusted  of  great  profit. 

A  hymn  wTas  sung — 

"  How  happy  every  child  of  grace, 
Who  knows  his  sins  forgiven  !" 

and  Mr.  Arthur,  the  pastor,  made  the  closing  prayer. 

The  love-feast  had  ended;  the  doors  were  thrown  open, 
and  the  congregation  dispersed. 

As  De  Vane  was  passing  to  the  door,  he  joined  Mr. 
Springfield  and  his  party,  and  spoke  to  them.  They  re 
ceived  him  warmly,  and  Mrs.  Springfield  expressed  her 
satisfaction  at  seeing  him  there.  "  It  is  new  to  you,  Mr. 
De  Vane,"  she  said,  "  and  may  not  be  agreeable  to  your 
tastes;  but  it  is  a  profitable  meeting  to  Christians." 

"  I  do  not  doubt  it,  madam,"  he  said.  "  I  have  been 
much  interested  in  it." 

Offering  his  arm  to  Esther,  he  walked  with  her,  preceded 
by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Springfield ;  and  upon  reaching  the  house, 
accepted  an  invitation  to  enter. 

"Well,  Mr.  De  Vane,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "you  have 
witnessed  a  meeting  peculiar  to  us  as  a  people,  and  I  trust 
that  you  found  nothing  in  it  to  offend  you." 

"  On  the  contrary,"  said  De  Vane,  "  I  was  profoundly 
interested  in  it.  I  can  imagine  nothing  more  agreeable 
to  an  earnest  believer  in  Christianity,  than  to  hear  others 
speak  of  its  effects,  as  wrought  in  them.  I  love  earnestness 


DE   VANE.  417 

in  every  thing  ;  and  every  one  must  concede,  that  if  the 
claims  of  religion  are  to  be  admitted  at  all,  they  must  be 
recognized  as  supreme.  I  can  conceive  of  nothing  so  dis 
tasteful  as  conventionalism,  and  a  deference  to  the  world's 
opinion  in  matters  affecting  one's  relations  to  God.  ]S"o, 
sir ;  such  a  meeting  as  I  have  been  permitted  to  witness 
this  evening  can  never  offend  me." 

"  You  must  allow  me  to  say,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Springfield, 
"  that  I  am  highly  gratified  to  hear .  you  express  yourself 
in  this  way.  Persons  of  culture,  unacquainted  with  our 
usages,  sometimes  find  their  taste  offended  by  them.  I 
am  not,  however,  surprised  to  find  that  you  are  differently 
affected  by  our  love-feast." 

De  Vane  bowed,  appreciating  the  compliment  which 
was  paid  to  the  real  nobleness  of  his  nature. 

"  I  was  much  pleased  with  Mr.  Chalmers  and  Mr.  Ar 
thur,"  said  De  Vane. 

"  They  are  superior  men,"  replied  Mr.  Springfield.  "  Mr. 
Chalmers  was  educated  at  your  College,  and  is  a  person 
of  fine  acquirements.  Both  as  a  writer  and  preacher,  he 
ranks  high.  You  can  hear  him  on  Sunday  morning,  if  you 
wish,  as  he  is  to  preach  at  that  time." 

"  I  shall  certainly  avail  myself  of  the  privilege,"  said 
De  Vane. 

"  Mr.  Arthur,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  is  a  Georgian  ; 
not  thoroughly  educated,  but  self-taught,  and  he  is  still 
rapidly  improving.  He  is  a  very  able  preacher,  and  his 
increasing  library  attests  his  love  of  books  and  his  prog 
ress  t  in  learning.  His  language  is  remarkable  for  its 
purity,  and  his  style  possesses  a  great  charm." 

"  I  must  hear  him  at  some  time,"  said  De  Vane.  "  I 
admire  him  greatly.  There  is  a  manliness  about  his  air 
very  pleasing  to  me." 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield.     "  He 
is  a  great  favorite  of  mine." 
18* 


418  DE  VANE. 

"  I  do  not  know  which  of  the  two  I  prefer,"  said  Esther. 
"  I  admire  them  both.  They  are  charming  men." 

"  You  are  fortunate  in  having  such  ministers,"  said  De 
Vane. 

"  Very  much  so,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield. 

After  some  conversation  upon  other  subjects,  De  Vane 
rose  and  took  leave  of  the  family,  saying  that  he  should 
not  fail  to  hear  Mr.  Chalmers  on  Sunday. 

He  found  Waring  in  his  room  awaiting  his  return,  and 
anxious  to  know  how  the  meeting  had  impressed  him. 

"  Well,  De  Vane,  what  do  you  think  of  a  love-feast  ?" 

"  I  was  profoundly  impressed  with  it,"  said  De  Vane, 
"  and  I  shall  hope  to  have  the  privilege  of  attending  one 
sometimes.  I  love  its  earnestness." 

"  Just  as  I  expected,"  said  Waring.  "  I  was  confident 
that  you  would  see  it  in  that  light.  Ah  !  De  Vane,  you 
ought  to  be  a  Christian." 

"  I  wish  I  could  be  one,"  said  De  Vane. 

"  Did  you  like  Mr.  Chalmers  ?"  asked  Waring. 

"  Greatly,"  said  De  Vane.  "  I  am  to  hear  him  on 
Sunday.  Mr.  Springfield  informed  me  that  he  would 
preach." 

"  Yes,"  said  Waring,  "  it  will  delight  you.  He  is  a 
charming  preacher.  A  more  polished  one  you  never 
heard." 

Then  followed  a  long  conversation  upon  other  subjects  ; 
and  when  the  friends  separated  for  the  night,  the  town 
clock  was  striking  twelve. 

On  Sunday  morning  the  Methodist  church  was  filled  to 
overflowing,  and  the  first  people  of  the  town  pressed 
eagerly  to  hear  Mr.  Chalmers.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Clarendon 
were  both  present,  and  were  accompanied  by  Mrs.  Haber- 
sham  and  Miss  Godolphin.  Mr.  Hallam  and  other  emi 
nent  men  were  scattered  through  the  congregation.  War 
ing  took  his  accustomed  seat,  and  De  Vane  was  by  his 


DE  VANE.  419 

side.  Mr.  Chalmers  rose  in  the  pulpit,  and  opened  the 
services  by  reading  a  portion  of  the  Old  and  the  New 
Testament. 

His  appearance  was  that  of  a  man  of  intellect,  sensi 
bility,  and  refinement.  His  dark  lambent  eyes  were  full 
of  expression,  and  his  finely-chiseled  features  bore  the 
ineffaceable  stamp  of  genius  and  sentiment.  His  reading 
was  very  fine,  clear,  and  rhetorical,  and  his  hearers 
caught  new  views  of  the  meaning  of  particular  passages 
of  the  Scriptures,  as  he  uttered  them. 

A  hymn  followed — one  of  remarkable  beauty — which 
was  read  in  a  way  to  impress  the  sentiments  which  it  em 
bodied,  almost  as  deeply  as  if  it  had  been  sung,  and  then 
the  whole  congregation,  rising  to  their  feet,  sang  it,  Mr. 
Chalmers  himself  leading  the  music.  The  prayer  that  fol 
lowed  impressed  De  Vane,  and  he  thought  it  the  finest  he 
had  ever  heard.  Another  hymn  followed,  sung  without 
the  lines  being  recited  from  the  pulpit ;  and  then  Mr. 
Chalmers  rose,  and  announcing  his  text,  proceeded  to  de 
liver  his  sermon,  without  reference  even  to  notes.  His 
text  was  from  the  eightieth  Psalm,  first  verse  :  "  Give  ear, 
O  Shepherd  of  Israel,  thou  that  leadest  Joseph  like  a  flock ; 
thou  that  dwellest  between  the  cherubims,  shine  forth." 

It  was  a  transcendently  great  discourse,  blending  argu 
ment,  illustration,  beauty,  and  fervor  in  wonderful  combi 
nation  and  matchless  power.  The  tenderness  of  the  all- 
merciful  Father ;  the  glory  of  the  God  of  hosts  dwelling 
between  the  cherubims ;  the  outshining  of  his  nature  in 
manifestations  of  love  for  a  lost  race,  until  at  length,  on 
Calvary,  the  expiring  Son,  encircled  by  the  angels  who 
bent  in  wondering  gaze  over  the  priceless  sacrifice  laid 
before  the  mercy-seat — all  was  described  in  language  so 
perfect,  so  pure,  so  much  in  harmony  with  the  sublime 
theme  of  the  preacher,  that  all  who  heard  him  yielded 
ready  sympathy,  and  wept  those  tears  which  come  from 


420  DE  VANE. 

the  depths  of  the  soul.  Some  sobbing  was  heard,  but  the 
prevailing  tribute  of  the  audience  to  the  power  of  the  dis 
course,  was  that  of  profuse  weeping.  Never  in  all  his  life 
had  De  Yane  been  so  deeply  aifected.  His  taste,  his  sensi 
bility,  his  judgment — all  approved  what  he  had  heard,  and 
there  was  no  room  for  criticism.  Mr.  Arthur  concluded 
the  services  in  his  fine,  warm,  natural  way ;  and  so  far 
from  impairing  the  effect  of  the  discourse,  heightened  and 
strengthened  it. 

As  the  congregation  were  dispersing,  De  Yane  met  Mr. 
Clarendon  and  his  party ;  his  eyes  were  moist,  and  the 
ladies  were  still  weeping. 

"  What  a  discourse  !"  said  Mr.   Clarendon.     "  I  forgot 

£> 

the  world  and  time  and  myself,  until  it  was  ended." 

"  You  have  described  my  own  emotions,"  said  De  Yane. 
"  It  was  glorious." 

The  ladies  entered  the  carriage.  Esther  came  up,  to 
take  the  extended  hand"  of  Mr.  Clarendon.  "What  do 
you  Methodists  mean  ?"  he  said.  "  Do  you  intend  to  cap 
tivate  us  all  ?" 

"  Only  to  make  you  free  indeed,"  she  replied,  smiling 
through  her  tears. 

De  Yane  shook  hands  with  her  silently.  She  turned  to 
speak  to  Mrs.  Habersham  and  Miss  Godolphin ;  and  De 
Yane,  joining  Waring,  who  was  standing  near  him, 
walked  away  from  the  Methodist  chapel. 


CHAPTER    X. 

"  LOVE  not !     0  -warning  !  vainly  said, 

In  present  hours  as  in  years  gone  by  ;        r 
Love  flings  a  halo  round  the  dear  one's  head, 
Faultless,  immortal,  till  they  change  or  die. 
Love  not  !" 

CAROLINE:  MORTON. 

THE  weeks  flew  by  swiftly.  Waring  was  closely  engaged 
with  his  duties  at  the  College,  and  De  Yane  was  pursuing 
his  studies  with  diligence.  He  made  rapid  progress,  and 
was  already  nearly  prepared  to  pass  the  examination  re 
quired  for  admission  to  the  bar.  Still  he  had  no  thought 
of  making  immediate  application,  intending  to  take  a  more 
extended  course,  before  entering  upon  the  duties  of  the 
profession.  He  had  not  received  any  reply  to  the  letters 
which  he  had  written  to  Mrs.  De  Yane.  Occasionally 
Waring  joined  him  in  riding  with  Miss  Godolphin  and 
Esther,  and  they  sometimes  drove  in  the  evening  in  De 
Yane's  open  carriage,  stopping  to  visit  friends  or  to  walk 
in  the  public  garden,  just  as  they  found  it  most  agreeable. 

One  evening  Waring  and  De  Yane  were  riding  with 
Miss  Godolphin  and  Esther  ;  they  had  been  on  an  excursion 
to  the  sand-hills,  and  upon  their  return  were  just  entering 
the  town,  when  Manfred  started  suddenly,  and  plunging 
to  the  side  of  the  road  where  it  was  precipitous,  came  near 
leaping  into  the  ravine  which  skirted  it.  But  for  the  ad 
mirable  skill  with  wrhich  Esther  controlled  him,  he  would 
have  done  so ;  and  even  when  restrained,  he  stood  with 
expanded  nostrils  and  dilated  eyes,  the  very  picture  of 

(421) 


4-22 

terror.  De  Vane  instantly  rode  to  the  aid  of  Esther,  and 
soothed  the  frightened  horse  by  speaking  to  him  cheerfully 
and  laying  his  hand  firmly  upon  his  neck. 

Waring  and  Miss  Godolphin,  who  were  a  little  way  in 
the  rear,  came  up,  and  the  group  formed  a  subject  for  the 
pencil  of  an  artist.  The  sun,  which  shed  his  strong  red 
beams  through  the  pine  forest,  which  comes  up  to  the 
very  boundaries  of  the  town,  revealed  a  being  standing  on 
a  projecting, rock  on  the  road-side,  who  seemed  scarcely  of 
this  world.  She  was  very  tall,  dark  as  an  Indian,  her 
black  hair  streaming  down  her  shoulders  like  a  mantle, 
her  eyes  blazing  and  wild  with  some  strange  passion,  her 
dress  fantastic  as  that  of  a  stage-queen,  and  her  attitude 
fall  of  unconscious  majesty.  The  sunlight  fell  upon  her, 
and  a  very  large,  perfectly  black  greyhound  stood  by  her 
side,  while  the  party  on  horseback,  arrested  by  the  object 
before  them,  confronted  her  silently,  and  with  almost  a 
sense  of  awe.  Several  minutes  elapsed  before  any  one 
spoke  :  at  length  De  Vane  said  : 

"  My  good  woman,  why  do  you  stand  there  on  the  road 
side  ?  Are  you  in  want  of  any  thing  ?" 

The  woman  fixed  her  eyes  on  the  face  of  the  young  man, 
and  seemed  to  study  it  as  if  she  would  read  his  soul.  She 
spoke  at  length,  in  tones  so  sad  as  almost  to  sound  like 
the  wailing  of  deep  grief.  "  You  are  brave,  and  she  is 
young  and  fair  ;  but  will  that  make  your  path  bright  ?  I 
have  seen  the  past  and  can  read  the  future.  Clouds  will 
darken  the  morning  sky,  though  the  sun  be  never  so 
strong." 

In  spite  of  his  own  judgment,  and  the  cool  courage  for 
which  he  was  remarkable,  De  Vane  could  not  treat  the 
words  lightly.  He  was  distressed.  Esther  became  very 
pale. 

Waring  and  Miss  Godolphin  looked  on  for  a  moment  in 
silence,  but  observing  the  effect  of  the  woman's  words  on 
Esther,  Waring  rode  nearer,  and  said  : 


DE  VANE.  423 

"  My  good  woman,  who  are  you  ?  What  can  we  do  for 
you  ?" 

She  turned  her  eyes  on  him,  and  then  looking  steadily 
at  Miss  Godolphin,  who  sat  moveless  in  her  dark  dress  on 
her  black  horse,  like  a  queen  mourning  some  dead  loved 
one,  she  said : 

"  Darkness  sometimes  comes  in  the  morning,  and  then 
the  sun  bursts  forth  and  the  sky  is  all  bright." 

Miss  Godolphin  trembled,  she  scarcely  knew  why  ;  a 
vague  terror  possessed  her.  The  innate  superstition  of  her 
nature  was  touched,  and  she  felt  for  a  moment  as  if  the 
strange  being  before  her — unearthly  and  superhuman — 
could  read  the  sealed  book  of  fate. 

"  It  is  very  strange !"  said  Waring.  "  What  does  she 
mean  ?" 

"  What  can  she  mean  ?"  said  De  Vane.  "  She  must  be 
some  maniac  who  has  wandered  from  her  keepers.  She 
may  be  in  want."  Taking  out  his  purse,  he  threw  a  gold- 
piece  at  her  feet,  and  said :  "  Perhaps  you  are  far  from 
home  ;•  there  is  something  that  will  buy  food  for  you  until 
you  find  your  people." 

The  woman  fixed  her  gaze  on  him  once  more ;  a  kindly 
look  passed  into  her  brilliant  eyes,  and  she  said  gently  : 
"  Brave  souls  endure  long.  When  storms  pass  by,  the 
cloudless  heavens  are  bright,  and  the  earth  rejoices  once 
more." 

Turning  away  from  the  spot  where  she  stood,  without 
stooping  to  take  up  the  piece  of  gold  which  De  Vane  had 
thrown  at  her  feet,  she  walked  slowly  into  the  woods  and 
disappeared.  The  party  rode  on. 

"  She  is  a  strange  being,"  said  Waring.  "  She  must 
have  friends  near  here,  and  if  her  pride  revolts  against  the 
offer  of  money,  doubtless  she  will  return  to  secure  it,  or 
send  some  of  her  people  for  it." 

"  She  is  most  extraordinary,"  said  De  Vane  ;  "  her  ap- 


424  DE   VANE. 

pearance  is  that  of  an  Indian  woman,  arid  yet  her  features 
are  those  of  the  white  race." 

"  I  have  a  faint  recollection  of  having  seen  her,"  said  Es 
ther,  "  but  when  or  where,  it  is  impossible  to  say.  She 
frightened  me,  I  am  ashamed  to  say,  dreadfully." 

"  I  do  not  wonder  at  it,"  said  De  Yane.  "  Her  appear 
ance  was  sudden,  and  it  was  enough  to  startle  any  one." 

"  She  is  a  very  strange  person,"  said  Miss  Godolphin. 
"  She  really  seems  unearthly.  Do  you  think,  Miss  Words 
worth,  it  is  possible  that  you  can  have  met  her  anywhere 
before  ?" 

"  I  am  confident  that  I  have,"  said  Esther.  "  It  seems  a 
mere  dream,  but  it  is  too  distinct  to  be  unreal." 

"  What  remarkable  language  she  uses  !"  said  De  Vane. 
"  It  is  really  poetical." 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  Waring,  "  that  it  is  very  much  in 
the  Indian  style  ?  They  are  poetical,  as  all  tribes  dwelling 
in  the  midst  of  nature  are  found  to  be,  and  some  of  the 
Indian  tribes  rise  in  the  use  of  language  to  a  highly  figur 
ative  and  even  ornate  and  elegant  style." 

"  The  language  of  that  woman,"  said  De  Vane,  "  reminds 
one  of  Ossian — it  is  lofty,  figurative,  and  sad." 

"  She  assumed  the  tone  of  a  sibyl,"  said  Miss  Godolphin. 
"  She  spoke  as  if  human  fortunes  were  revealed  to  her." 

"  Yet  she  was  as  indefinite  as  an  oracle,"  said  Waring. 
"  Her  generalization  was  such  that  it  would  be  easy  to 
verify  her  prophecies,  whatever  turn  human  fortunes  might 
take." 

"  Still,"  said  De  Vane,  "  there  seemed  to  be  some  deep 
meaning  in  her  words.  I  confess  to  a  vein  of  superstition 
in  my  nature." 

"  That  comes  of  your  passion  for  the  classics,"  said 
Waring.  "  Augurs  and  soothsayers  decided  the  fortunes 
of  men  and  states  in  former  times." 

"  I  confess  too,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  that  I  share  Mr. 


DE   VANE.  425 

De  Vane's  respect  for  such  predictions  as  we  have  just  lis 
tened  to.  That  woman  may  be  endowed  with  supernatu 
ral  vision." 

"  Scarcely,  I  should  think,"  said  Waring.  "  We  must 
inquire  about  her." 

It  was  understood  that  they  were  to  pass  the  evening 
at  Mrs.  Springfield's,  it  being  Thursday,  when  she  received, 
without  issuing  cards  of  invitation. 

O 

The  evening  was  fine,  and  an  unusually  large  company 
assembled  in  the  attractive  drawing-rooms  of  Mrs.  Spring 
field.  The  cheerfulness,  the  unpretending  elegance,  and 
the  high  culture  which  reigned  in  the  house,  made  it  a 
most  agreeable  one  to  visit.  Large  entertainments  were 
never  given,  but  at  the  receptions  the  numbers  were  some 
times  such  as  to  rival  those  brought  together  by  regular 
cards  of  invitation. 

Mrs.  Habersham  accompanied  Mies  Godolphin,  and  Mr. 
Clarendon  soon  sought  them,  and  entered  into  conver 
sation  with  them. 

"  O  Mr.  Clarendon  !"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  we  had  a 
rare  adventure  this  evening,  and  I  have  not  ceased  to  trem 
ble  yet." 

"  Indeed  !"  said  he,  opening  his  eyes  very  wide,  and 
looking  sympathetic  horror ;  "  and  what  shape  did  it 
come  in  ?" 

"  Oh  !  I  can  not  undertake  to  relate  it,  in  the  absence  of 
Miss  Wordsworth.  She  was  present,  and  shared  my  ter 
ror,"  said  Miss  Godolphin. 

"  Then  let  us  find  her,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  offering  her 
his  arm.  They  made  their  way  into  the  library,  where 
Esther  was  engaged  in  conversation  with  Waring ;  and 
going  to  the  spot  where  she  stood,  Mr.  Clarendon  bowed, 
and  said : 

"  I  am  here,  Miss  Wordsworth,  to  hear  you  repeat  a 
tale  which  is  to  freeze  my  young  blood,  and  make  my 


4-26  DE  VANE. 

hair  to  stand  on  end,  like  quills  upon  the  fretful  porcupine. 
Will  you  deign  to  speak  ?" 

"  And  has  not  Miss  Godolphin  informed  you  of  our  ad 
venture  ?"  said  Esther,  smiling. 

"  Only  that  you  have,  had  an  adventure  ;  but  not  a  word 
further  can  I  prevail  on  her  to  utter,"  said  he. 

"  Oh  !  here  comes  my  uncle,"  said  Esther,  "  and  he  can 
recite  it,  and  enlighten  you  better  than  I  can.  I  told 
him  what  had  occurred  upon  my  return  home,  and  he  is 
confident  that  he  knows  the  person  who  startled  us  so 
much." 

Mr.  Springfield  came  up,  and  he  was  appealed  to  for  an 
explanation. 

"  Where  is  Mr.  De  Vane  ?"  he  asked,  turning  to  Waring. 
"  He  should  hear  what  I  have  to  say." 

"  I  am  looking  for  him  every  moment,"  said  Waring. 
"  He  received  letters  from  Virginia  just  as  we  reached 
home,  and  he  said  that  he  would  look  over  them,  and 
follow  me  before  a  great  while." 

At  that  moment,  De  Vane  entered  the  room,  and  ad 
vanced  directly  to  the  group  in  which  Esther  was  stand 
ing.  He  looked  somewhat  graver  than  usual,  and  bowed 
with  stately  grace  to  the  party  awaiting  his  approach. 

"  An  opportune  arrival !"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  extending 
his  hand  to  him.  "  I  await  with  impatience  the  unfolding 
of  a  tale,  which  can  not  be  disclosed  until  you  are  ready 
to  hear  it.  Welcome,  sir !" 

"  I  regret  my  late  arrival  on  every  account,"  said  De 
Vane,  "  but  I  trust  that  I  am  yet  in  time  to  be  enlightened 
by  any  disclosures  that  are  to  be  made." 

"  Mr.  Springfield,  will  you  please  to  proceed  ?"  said  Mr. 
Clarendon. 

"  It  seems,  then,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  that  our  young 
friends  were  returning  this  evening  from  an  excursion  on 
horseback,  when,  just  at  the  limits  of  the  town  where  the 


DE  VANE.  427 

pines  rise  in  such  a  fine  grove,  Esther's  horse  started  vio 
lently,  and  threatened  to  go  over  the  precipice  011  the  side 
of  the  road,  when  Mr.  De  Vane,  with  great  coolness  and 
judgment,  soothed  Manfred,  and  held  him  from  doing  mis 
chief;  when,  looking  across  the  road,  to  discover  what  had 
frightened  him,"  a  strange  woman  was  seen  standing  on  a 
projecting  rock,  in  a  queen-like  attitude,  and  dressed  quite 
out  of  the  way  in  which  civilized  females  are  accustomed 
to  appear ;  and,  upon  being  accosted,  she  proceeded  to  utter 
one  or  two  prophetic  sentences,  in  highly  figurative  style. 
Her  language  was  fine,  her  manner  majestic,  and  the 
words  evidently  designed  to  convey  some  hidden  mean 
ing." 

"  What  were  the  words  ?"  asked  Mr.  Clarendon. 

Esther  colored  deeply,  and  De  Vane  looked  uneasy. 
Waring  hesitated  to  say  any  thing,  and  Miss  Godolpliin 
was  profoundly  interested. 

"  Upon  my  soul !"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  I  am  becoming 
deeply  interested.  This  begins  to  look  as  if  it  meant 
something." 

Waring  smiled,  and  said :  "  I  suppose  I  must  answer 
your  question,  as  Mr.  Springfield  was  not  of  our  party 
when  the  woman  appeared  to  us.  Observing  her  strange 
demeanor,  I  was  curious  to  know  what  she  might  have  to 
say,  and  therefore  observed  her  closely.  In  reply  to  a 
question  from  Mr.  De  Vane,  as  to  '  Why  she  stood  on  the 
road-side  ?  if  she  was  in  want  of  any  thing  ?'  she  looked  on 
him  with  the  eyes  of  an  awakened  sibyl,  and  after  a  full 
survey  both  of  himself  and  Miss  Wordsworth,  she  said,  in 
low,  sad  tones  :  '  You  are  brave,  and  she  is  young  and  fair  ; 
but  will  that  make  your  path  bright  ?  I  have  seen  ike  past, 
and  I  can  read  thefutare.  Clouds  will  darken  the  morning 
sky,  though  the  sun  be  never  so  strong?  I  then  rode  nearer, 
and  asked  her  if  we  could  do  any  thing  for  her ;  when, 
fixing  upon  me  the  same  steady  gaze  which  she  had  turned 


428  DE   VANE. 

on  De  Vane,  she  said :  '  Darkness  sometimes  comes  in  the 
morning,  and  then  the  sun  bursts  forth,  and  the  sky  is  all 
bright?  Upon  this  Mr.  De  Yane  threw  a  piece  of  gold  at 
her  feet,  which  she  disdained  to  touch,  but  looking  kindly 
on  him,  she  said,  '  Brave  souls  endure  long.  'When  storms 
pass  by,  the  cloudless  heavens  are  bright,  and  the  earth 
rejoices  once  more  f  when  she  turned  away,  and  disap 
peared." 

"  It  is  very  wonderful !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Clarendon,  evi 
dently  deeply  impressed  by  what  he  had  heard. 

"  I  found  Esther  so  much  agitated  when  she  reached 
home,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  that  I  tried  to  soothe  her, 
by  giving  her  the  only  explanation  which,  I  think,  can 
apply  to  an  incident  so  extraordinary.  When  I  resided  in 
Georgia,  I  became  acquainted  with  some  of  the  leading 
men  of  the  Cherokee  nation,  and  I  learned  from  one  of 
them  an  account  so  remarkable  and  interesting  that  it 
haunted  me.  An  English  gentleman,  becoming  embittered 
against  his  friends,  came  to  this  country,  and  entered  the 
Cherokee  nation,  adopted  their  habits,  their  dress,  and,  in 
short,  became  one  of  them.  He  married  the  daughter  of  a 
chief,  and  lived  with  the  people  of  his  adoption  to  the  day 
of  his  death.  A  daughter  was  born  to  him,  and  she  was 
sent  to  Philadelphia,  where  she  received  a  thorough  edu 
cation.  Returning,  to  visit  her  people,  who  had  made 
great  progress  in  civilization,  she  was  the  object  of  much 
attention  from  all  travelers  passing  through  the  nation, 
and  she  attracted  the  notice  of  the  son  of  a  gentleman  of 
fortune,  who  actually  asked  her  in  marriage.  Obstacles 
were  interposed  by  her  father,  and  the  gentleman,  find 
ing  him  inexorable,  and  the  daughter  refusing  to  dis 
obey,  abandoned  her.  Shut  up  in  the  nation,  her  mind 
acting  on  itself,  with  so  little  to  divert  it  from  dwelling 
on  her  sorrow,  she  lost  her  reason,  and  at  once  became,  in 
the  estimation  of  her  people,  a  prophetess.  They  vene- 


DE  VANE.  429 

rated  her,  and  exalted  her  into  the  highest  rank  of  in 
spired  beings.  Some  years  since,  when  Esther  was  a 
child,  some  of  the  tribe  came  to  Athens,  where  we  were 
on  a  visit,  and  she  accompanied  them.  Going  out  to  their 
encampment,  we  met  the  prophetess,  and  she  took  a 
wonderful  fancy  to  Esther,  who,  while  greatly  alarmed  by 
the  appearance  of  the  Indians,  seemed  to  approach  her 
without  fear.  I  think,  even  then,  she  uttered  some  pre 
diction  about  Esther,  in  which  cloud  and  sunshine  were 
much  intermixed,  but  I  do  not  recall  it  distinctly,  of 
course  regarding  it  as  of  no  moment." 

"  But,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  can  it  be  possible  she  is 
here  ?  Can  this  be  the  prophetess  ?" 

"  I  do  not  know  how  that  may  be,"  said  Mr.  Springfield  ; 
"  but  it  is  possible  that  some  wandering  party  of  the  Che- 
rokees  may  may  be  visiting  here,  in  prospect  of  the  as 
sembling  of  the  Legislature." 

De  Vane,  Esther,  and  Miss  Godolphin  had  all  listened  to 
the  conversation  with  the  deepest  interest. 

"  Her  language,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  was  that  of  an 
educated  woman.  Did  you  ever  hear  any  thing  more  im 
pressively  uttered,  Mr.  De  Vane  ?" 

"  Never,"  said  De  Vane,  "  never ;  and  her  appearance 
was  nothing  short  of  majestic." 

"  It  is  very  remarkable,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  that  per 
sons  who  profess  to  be  able  to  read  the  future  at  once 
acquire  a  certain  ascendency  over  us.  I  doubt  if  the 
strongest  minds  are  not  to  some  extent  under  the  dominion 
of  that  subtle  superstition  which  asserts  its  sway  so  widely 
as  to  be  almost,  if  not  quite,  universal.  It  is  one  of  those 
points  where  civilization  and  barbarism  meet.  Humanity, 
in  all  its  conditions,  desires  to  fathom  the  infinite,  and  to 
read  the  invisible ;  and  we  yield  some  deference  to  the 
claims  of  those  who  profess  to  be  able  to  see  coming  events 
in  the  shadows  which  they  cast  before  them." 


430  DE  VANE. 

"The  observation  is,  I  think,"  said  Waring,  "  a  perfectly 
just  one ;  and  I  confess  that  I  experienced  this  evening, 
when  we  were  confronted  with  that  extraordinary  woman, 
a  certain  degree  of  deference  and  more  respect  for  her  ut 
terances  than  they  were  at  all  entitled  to." 

"  By  the  way,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  her  words  wrere 
very  remarkable.  She  has  uttered  a  prophecy  almost  in 
the  language  of  poetry,  and  yet  susceptible  of  clear  inter 
pretation." 

The  heightening  color  of  Esther,  the  conscious  look  of 
De  Vane,  and  the  expression  of  Miss  Godolphin's  face,  sat 
isfied  him  that  it.  was  a  subject  too  deeply  involving  the 
happiness  of  those  about  him  to  be  discussed  lightly ;  and 
he  added  :  "  I  must  look  into  this,  and  see  if  the  prophetess 
can  read  my  fortunes." 

"  Ah  !  Mr.  Clarendon,"  said  Esther,  "  it  requires  no  pro 
phetess  to  read  your  future.  It  is  to  be  a  brilliant  one." 

"  And  you  are  ascending  the  tripod  ?"  said  Mr.  Claren 
don.  "  I  yield  to  such  a  priestess,"  and  bending  low,  he 
kissed  Esther's  hand.  "  No  sweeter  language  could  greet 
me  if  I  stood  at  Delphi." 

The  group  dispersed,  other  persons  coming  forward,  and 
Mr.  Springfield  turning  away  to  attend  to  guests  just  com 
ing  in.  In  the  course  of  the  evening,  De  Yane  sought  a 
conversation  with  Esther,  but  found  her  so  surrounded 
that  he  could  only  express  his  wish  to  speak  with  her  alone, 
and  it  was  understood  between  them  that  he  should  call 
the  next  day  at  twelve.  He  took  a  seat  by  the  side  of 
Miss  Godolphin,  and  had  a  long  and  earnest  conversation. 
She  Avas  eager  to  speak  with  him  of  his  visit  to  Virginia, 
and  she  asked  him  seriously  what  his  relations  were  with 
Miss  Guilford. 

"  Were  you  jesting,  Mr.  De  Vane,  when  you  said,  some 
evenings  since,  that  she  had  made  no  impression  on  you  ?" 


DE  VANE.  431 

De  Vane  smiled.  "  And  do  you  suppose  that  I  am  really 
a  prisoner  at  large  ?"  he  replied. 

"  Do  not  evade  the  question,"  she  said,  "  but  do  answer 
me  frankly.  I  know  that  she  looked  forward  to  meeting 
you  in  Virginia  with  the  greatest  interest.  She  often  spoke 
of  you,  and  you  were  the  subject  of  correspondence  with 
your  aunt.  She  was  much  admired  in  Europe,  and  I  ara 
curious  to  know  if  you  have  really  escaped,  without  sur 
rendering  to  charms  which  many  thought  were  irresistible." 

De  Yane  saw  that  she  was  seriously  interested.  He  did 
not  doubt  that  the  interest  grew  out  of  a  generous  concern 
for  her  friend,  Miss  Wordsworth.  The  event  of  the  even 
ing  had  startled  her ;  the  roadside  prophetess,  the  strange 
prediction  in  regard  to  the  future  of  the  persons  before 
her — for  she  had  evidently  designed  her  words  to  be  pro-, 
phetic — the  emotion  of  Esther,  all  satisfied  her  that  the 
happiness  of  at  least  one  party  might  be  involved  in  the 
growing  intercourse  between  De  Yane  and  Esther,  and  she 
resolved,  with  true  and  unselfish  courage,  to  seek  a  free 
conversation  with  him. 

"  I  assure  you,  Miss  Godolphin,"  he  said,  "  that  I  am 
perfectly  sincere.  I  found  Miss  Guilford's  beauty  resplend 
ent,  and  I  admired  her  greatly.  She  transcended  my  ex 
pectations.  She  is  a  brilliant  woman ;  but  after  an  unre 
stricted  intercourse  of  a  summer's  duration,  I  left  her  with 
out  the  slightest  interest  in  her,  beyond  the  admiration 
which  she  excited  when  we  first  met.  I  beg  you  to  believe 
me  when  I  assure  you  as  a  friend — and  I  trust  that  you 
will  permit  me  to  hold  that  relation  to  you — that  it  would 
be  impossible  for  me  to  regard  Miss  Guilford  with  any 
stronger  or  tenderer  sentiment  than  that  of  admiration." 

He  spoke  earnestly.  Miss  Godolphin  extended  her  hand 
to  him,  and  said  : 

"  I  am  honored  by  your  friendship,  Mr.  De  Yane ;  always 
regard  me  as  your  friend,  and  allow  me  to  say  that  my  in- 


432  DE  VANE. 

terest  in  yo^ft  is  fur  deeper  since  this  conversation  than  it 
was  before." 

De  Vane  bowed.  Esther  had  never  hinted  to  Miss  Go- 
dolphin  her  interest  in  De  Vane,  nor  had  she  at  any  time 
referred  to  their  relations  ;  but  her  observation  had  satis 
fied  Miss  Godolphin  that  a  nature  so  noble,  pure,  and  true 
as  that  of  Esther,  if  impressed  at  all,  must  be  so  inefface- 
ably.  Her  heart,  she  felt,  was  like  the  plant  that  blooms 
but  once,  exhales  its  sweetness,  and  then  dies.  She  had 
felt  it  to  be  her  duty  to  speak  to  Esther  some  weeks  since 
in  regard  to  De  Vane,  to  explain  to  her  the  peculiarities  of 
his  family,  the  hopes  founded  upon  the  expected  alliance 
with  Miss  Guilford  ;  and  she  had  related  to  Esther,  for  the 
first  time,  her  own  past ;  her  relations  to  the  family  of  Sir 
George  Godolphin ;  and  the  suffering  which  she  had  en 
dured.  In  the  conversation  which  had  taken  place  at  Lea- 
sowes,  and  in  which  De  Vane  had  heard  himself  named, 
Miss  Godolphin  had  made  this  communication  to  Esther. 

At  this  moment  several  persons  came  to  the  sofa  where 
De  Vane  and  Miss  Godolphin  were  seated,  and  spoke  with 
them,  breaking  off  a  conversation  intensely  interesting  to 
those  who  were  engaged  in  it,  and  turning  upon  subjects 
which  must  have  led  to  farther  explanations,  if  it  had  con 
tinued;  but  society  is  imperious,  and  presently  quite  a 
general  and  sparkling  talk  sprang  up,  in  which  Miss  Go- 
dolphin  bore  a  leading  part. 

Music  followed,  Miss  Godolphin  taking  the  piano,  and 
Esther  accompanying  her  with  her  voice,  in  one  of  those 
grand  old  songs  which  made  every  thing  yield  before  the 
sway  of  passion  uttering  itself  in  the  language  of  poetry, 
and  borrowing  harmony  to  raise  and  spiritualize  it.  And 
so  the  evening  wore  away,  and  the  guests  departed. 

N"ot  all  to  sleep,  however ;  for  Waring  and  De  Vane 
outsat  the  early  hours  of  the  night  in  conversation ;  and 
Miss  Godolphin  and  Esther  invoked  tired  nature's  sweet 


DE   VANE.  483 

restorer  all  in  vain,  until  long  after  midnight,  when  they 
sank  into  slumbers  full  of  dreams,  in  which  the  majestic 
form  of  the  wild  prophetess  stood  once  more  before  them, 
speaking  of  the  past  and  the  future. 

The  next  day,  at  twelve  o'clock,  De  Vane  called  on  Es 
ther,  and  was  received  by  her  in  the  drawing-room. 

"  I  hope,"  said  he,  "  that  you  are  bright  to-day,  and 
that  you  have  suffered  nothing  from  the  adventure  of 
yesterday." 

"  Not  quite  bright,"  said  Esther.  "  I  found  it  impossi 
ble  to  sleep  last  night.  Visions  of  the  strange  woman 
whom  we  met  floated  before  me,  until  daylight  streamed 
in  through  the  windows,  bringing  quite  a  sense  of  relief." 

"She  seemed  to  impress  you,"  said  De  Vane  ;  "  and  she 
was  certainly  an  extraordinary  person  to  meet  on  the  road 
side.  I  intend  to  ride  out  to  the  same  spot  this  evening, 
to  see  if  any  trace  of  her  can  be  found." 

"  Do,"  said  Esther.  "  I  feel  the  greatest  interest  in 
knowing  more  of  her.  My  aunt  agrees  in  thinking  it 
\iust  be  the  person  whom  my  uncle  described  to  us  last 
evening." 

"  I  do  not  doubt  it,"  said  De  Vane.  "  How  strange  it 
is  that  such  beings  utter  words,  which  seem  to  come 
freighted  with  supernatural  meaning  and  emphasis  !  It  is 
rery  remarkable  that  upon  returning  to  my  room  last 
evening,  my  servant  handed  me  a  package  of  letters,  and 
among  them  was  one  from  my  aunt.  It  is  very  long,  but 
I  shall  put  it  in  your  hands  to  read,  for  I  intend,  Esther, 
Jo  treat  you  throughout  our  intercourse  with  perfect  frank 
ness.  I  can  give  you  no  higher  proof  of  my  love  and  con 
fidence." 

He  handed  her  the  letter,  and  added  :  "  Do  not  read  it 
now.  I  shall  leave  it  with  you.  You  will  observe  that 
the  prediction  of  the  sibyl  is  speedily  verified  ;  clouds  be- 
19 


434  DE   VANE. 

gin  to  overspread  our  path.  But  let  us  take  courage ;  they 
will  not  linger  forever." 

A  deep  flush  overspread  Esther's  face,  hut  she  was 
silent. 

"  My  father,"  continued  De  Vane,  "  does  not  know  you, 
and  his  conventional  prejudices  are  like  the  Virginia 
mountains,  deep-seated,  and  shrouded  often  in  mists  and 
clouds,  which  shut  out  the  light  and  warmth  of  the  bright 
est  and  purest  mornings.  I  am  not  surprised  at  this.  I 
looked  for  it,  but  my  aunt,  like  a  glorious  woman  as  she 
is,  is  for  us,  Esther,  and  that  secures  every  thing.  It  de 
lights  me,  and  fills  me  with  hope." 

Esther  looked  at  the  address  of  the  letter  which  she 
held  in  her  hand.  The  writing  had  a  stateliness  about  it, 
and  elegance.  It  was  thoroughly  English,  and,  she  fan 
cied,  thoroughly  aristocratic. 

"I  am  happy  to  know,"  she  said,  "that  Mrs.  De  Vane 
regards  me  kindly.  I  am  of  course  indebted  to  you  for 
that," 

"  I  have  only  described  you  as  you  are,  Esther,"  said  De 
Vane ;  "  and  Mrs.  De  Vane  has  great  confidence  in  my 
taste  and  judgment.  We  often  spoke  of  you  when  I  was 
in  Virginia  ;  and  when  she  became  satisfied  that  her  plans 
for  me  respecting  Miss  Guilford  would  not  succeed,  she 
began  to  hear  my  representation  of  you  favorably.  But 
my  last  letter,  in  which  I  described  an  interview  at  Lea- 
sowes,  seems  to  have  completed  the  conquest,  and  she  is 
now  earnestly  our  friend." 

Esther  smiled. 

"  We  must  be  brave,  Esther,"  he  continued.  "  My  fa 
ther's  confidence  in  Mrs.  De  Vane  is  fathomless.  He 
knows  how  fastidious  she  is,  and  how  thoroughly  devoled 
she  is  to  caste.  I  shall  bring  every  thing  right,  and  our 
sky  will  yet  be  cloudless." 

"  You  must  not  suffer  me,  Mr.  De  Vane,"  she  said,  "  to 


DE   VANE.  435 

introduce  unhappiness  into  your  family.  I  should  be 
wretched  if  I  saw  any  estrangement  between  you  and 
your  father.  Xever,  never  could  I  forgive  myself  if  that 
should  follow." 

"  My  dearest  Esther,"  said  De  Yane,  "  you  must  take  a 
brighter  view  of  our  relations.  I  can  await  the  passing 
away  of  the  clouds.  Can  you  not  ?" 

"  I  have  already  said,"  replied  Esther,  "  that  you  need 
not  doubt  my  interest  in  you.  It  is  too  sincere  to  permit 
me  to  darken  your  home,  by  bringing  the  shadow  of  your 
father's  displeasure  upon  you.  You  need  not  fear  any 
change  in  my  regard  for  you,  but  every  consideration  sat 
isfies  me  that  there  should  be  no  change  in  our  relations 
without  the  full  approbation  of  General  De  Yane." 

Her  soul,  full  of  truth,  shone  through  her  eyes,  and  she 
seemed  almost  majestic  as  with  tones  sad  and  gentle,  but 
firm  and  steady,  she  uttered  these  words  ;  as  a  priestess 
of  Apollo  glowing  with  earthly  love,  but  yet  true  to  the 
vows  which  bound  her  still  to  minister  at  the  altar,  might 
repel  the  love  who  sought  to  lead  her  away  from  the  tem 
ple  where  she  worshiped. 

"  Well,  Esther,"  said  De  Yane,  "  I  can  not  doubt  the 
future.  I  will  never  relinquish  you ;  never  but  with  life 
itself.  Life  to  me  without  you  is  desolate.  I  scorn  its 
highest  prizes,  its  ambition,  its  glory ;  and  as  to  its  heart 
less,  soulless  conventionalisms,  I  hate  and  trample  upon 
them.  The  paltry  things  that  the  world  values,  I  detest ; 
and  the  stately  establishments  which  it  sets  up  and  vene 
rates  are  but  pyramids  to  hold  the  ashes  of  the  dead — hol 
low,  gloomy  vaults,  where  every  thing  is  cold  and  life 
less." 

The  young  patrician  rose  from  his  seat,  and  stood  in  the 
full  height  of  his  strength  and  pride.  He  felt  that  he  was 
a  MAN. 

"  They  shall  never  bind  me,"  he  continued,  "  with  their 


436  DE  VANE. 

fetters,  golden  though  they  be ;  nor  compel  me  to  bow 
before  their  false  gods.  While  I  live  in  this  breathing 
world,  I  will  give  my  soul  its  full  expansion,  and  whatever 
place  the  world  may  assign  me,  I  shall  preserve  my  self- 
respect.  Ancestral  honors  !  family  alliances  !  what  are 
these  to  me  ?  The  poor  Indian  exchanges  his  gold  for 
glass  beads,  and  fancies  himself  happy ;  but  I  will  never 
sell  my  soul  for  the  world's  baubles." 

His  form  towered,  as  he  uttered  these  words  with  start 
ling  energy  ;  and  Esther  felt  that  she  had  never  seen  him 
when  he  appeared  so  full  of  glorious  manhood.  He 
seemed  a  demi-god  roused  to  indignation,  and  yet  restrain 
ing  the  passion  that  shook  his  soul.  He  strode  ^across  the 
floor  several  times,  and,  turning  to  Esther,  said  with  gen 
tleness  :  "  I  leave  Mrs.  De  Vane's  letter  with  you,  Esther. 
I  can  not  trust  myself  to  speak  of  these  things  just  now. 
Good  morning  !" 

Esther  gave  him  her  hand.  He  grasped  it  with  energy, 
and,  bowing  low,  walked  away. 

The  mid-day  sun  was  in  the  heavens,  and  drifting  clouds, 
sweeping  away  to  the  eastward,  left  his  disk  unvailed. 
De  Vane  thought  of  the  sibyl. 

In  the  evening,  De  Vane  and  Waring  rode  to  the  spot, 
the  scene  of  the  adventure  of  the  previous  day  ;  but  they 
could  find  no  trace  of  the  strange  being  who  had  startled 
their  party. 

They  rode  into  the  neighboring  woods,  but  they  sought 
in  vain  for  the  prophetess  or  her  people.  The  only  sign 
of  any  stranger  footprints  to  be  discovered  was  near  a 
spring  of  pure  and  abundant  water,  some  half-mile  from 
the  road.  There  a  party  had  evidently  pitched  their  tents, 
but  they  were  already  gone,  and  silence  reigned  over  the 
spot. 


CHAPTER    XL 

"UPON  her  face  there  was  the  tint  of  grief — 
The  settled  shadow  of  an  inward  strife — 
And  an  unquiet  drooping  of  the  eye, 
As  if  its  lid  were  charged  with  unshed  tears. 
What  could  her  grief  be  ?" 

LORD  BYRON. 

THE  effect  of  the  appearance  of  the  sibyl  upon  Miss 
Godolphin's  spirits,  was  even  more  marked  and  abiding 
than  on  Esther's.  Her  sadness  seemed  to  return  with  in 
creased  power.  She  re-visited  the  past ;  and  the  gloom 
which  was  passing  away  reasserted  its  dominion.  Like 
the  starlit  heavens  over  which  drifting  clouds  fly,  obscur 
ing  their  glory  for  a  time,  but  leaving  the  orbs  which  burn 
in  the  far  depths  the  brighter  for  the  passing  shadow,  all 
the  splendid  qualities  of  her  nature  were  shining  out  with 
increasing  brilliancy,  as  her  melancholy  gave  way.  But 
now,  deeper  gloom  overspread  her  soul,  than  when  she 
first  returned  from  Europe.  Esther  observed  this  with 
great  pain,  and  sought  to  attract  her  from  the  dark  stream 
where  she  had  seated  herself,  hanging  her  harp,  like  a  cap 
tive  Jewish  maiden,  upon  the  willows  which  fringed  its 
banks.  She  was  much  with  her ;  placed  in  her  hands 
books  which  might  interest  her,  and  brought  her  under 
the  influence,  as  often  as  possible,  of  those  elevating  and 
consoling  views  of  life  which  cheered  her  own  heart. 

Calling  one  morning  on  her,  she  found  her  seated  in  her 
boudoir,  with  a  letter  lying  before  her,  with  its  margin 
deeply  traced  with  the  lines  of  mourning,  and  it  was  wet 

(437) 


488  DE  VANE. 

with  tears — fresh  tears,  though  the  letter  was  an  old  one ; 
and  Esther,  under  an  impulse  which  she  could  not  resist, 
threw  herself  on  the  sofa  by  the  side  of  her  friend,  and  put 
her  arms  around  her  tenderly.  Miss  Godolphin,  inex 
pressibly  touched  by  a  mark  of  sympathy  so  warm,  from 
one  whose  habitual  self-restraint  made  her  sometimes 
appear  even  cold,  laid  her  head  on  Esther's  shoulder,  and 
wept  as  if  the  fountains  of  sensibility  would  pour  out  all 
their  floods.  Soothed  by  Esther's  gentleness,  she  at  length 
lifted  her  head — that  proud,  beautiful,  splendid  head — and 
kissed  her  friend  passionately,  and  then,  smiling  through 
her  tears,  she  said : 

"  You  will  think  me  weak,  Esther,  very  weak.  I  do  not 
know  that  you  have  seen  me  weep  before.  But  I  have 
been  re-visiting  the  past,  and  it  has  overwhelmed  me  with 
its  shadows." 

She  handed  Esther  the  open  letter.  It  was  from  Sir 
George  Godolphin — that  in  which  he  reproached  her  with 
having  brought  sorrow  and  desolation  upon  his  house. 
It  was  a  cruel  letter,  and  it  had  crushed  her  spirit. 

After  reading  it,  Esther  folded  it  and  laid  it  on  the 
escritoire. 

"Hortensia,"  she  said,  "let  me  speak  with  you  freely. 
You  are  ungenerous  with  yourself.  You  have  become  an 
ally  of  Sir  George  in  accusing  yourself.  A  more  cruel  let 
ter — a  more  unjust  one — I  never  read.  The  visit  to  his 
house  was  at  his  own  solicitation ;  his  son  was  thrown  in 
your  way  ;  you  dealt  honestly  with  him  throughout ;  you 
left  England ;  he  followed  you  to  the  Continent ;  you  never 
at  any  time  encouraged  his  addresses  ;  and  when  you  per 
sisted  in  declining  to  yield  to  his  wishes,  he  surrendered 
himself  to  a  generous  but  wild  adventure,  which  bore  him 
away  from  his  home  and  his  country,  it  seems  forever." 

"  Yes,  but  I  encouraged  him,  Esther.  I  cheered  him  on 
in  the  glorious  but  perilous  course  which  he  had  resolved 


DE   VANE.  439 

to  pursue,  and  which  would  never  have  been  entered  on  if 
I  had  given  him  any  hope  for  the  future." 

"  But,"  exclaimed  Esther,  "  you  never  loved  him.  Why 
should  you  sacrifice  yourself  for  a  man  whom  you  never 
loved,  and  never  could  have  loved  ?" 

"  Oh !  never,  never !  But  still,  Esther,  he  loved  me, 
and  but  for  me  he  would  now  be  the  caressed  and  honored 
son  of  a  stately  but  now  broken-hearted  nobleman,  who 
sees  his  hopes  extinguished  forever." 

"  Hortensia,"  said  Esther  earnestly,  "  have  you  searched 
your  heart  ?  Was  there  no  love  in  it  ?  no  slightest  interest 
which  time  might  have  developed  ?" 

Miss  Godolphin  hesitated  not  a  moment.  She  replied 
instantly,  laiivl  with  her  natural  energy  : 

"  My  heart  required  no  searching.  I  never  loved  him — 
never,  never — nor  would  it  be  possible  for  me  to  love  him, 
if  he  stood  before  me  to-day  in  all  the  strength  of  his 
young  manhood." 

"  Then,"  said  Esther,  with  a  beaming  smile,  "  you  must 
dismiss  this  sadness.  I  assure  you  it  ought  not  to  darken 
your  life  a  moment.  I  am  qualified  to  judge  the  case. 
My  interest  in  you  has  made  me  study  it,  and  I  am  per 
fectly  sure  that  there  is  nothing  whatever  with  which  you 
should  reproach  yourself." 

"Thank  you,  dearest  Esther,"  said  Miss  Godolphin. 
"  You  are  indeed  an  angel  visiting  me  in  the  wilderness, 
to  comfort  and  guide  me ;  and  I  will  try  to  drink  of  the 
waters  of  consolation  which  you  have  shown  me."  Both 
smiled  through  their  tears,  for  Esther  had  wept  with  her 
friend. 

It  was  a  beautiful  picture — two  young  beings,  so  con 
trasted  in  their  personal  appearance,  yet  both  surpassingly 
lovely ;  the  one  with  her  profuse  fair  hair  falling  in  rich 
curls  about  her  bright  face,  the  other  with  her  dark  locks 
braided  in  heavy  masses  and  gathered  in  a  clasp  of  gold 


440 

at  the  back  of  the  head,  leaving  the  full  outline  of  her 
classical  features  visible ;  seated  side  by  side,  as  if  an 
angel,  quitting  heaven  for  a  season,  had  come  to  visit 
and  cheer  another  who  was  striving  with  passions  which 
would  not  permit  her  yet  to  rise  to  her  celestial  home. 

"  The  appearance  and  language  of  the  strange  woman 
whom  we  saw  on  the  roadside,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  in 
some  way  revived  the  past  powerfully.  The  allusion  to 
darkening  young  days,  and  the  whole  aspect  of  the  extra 
ordinary  being,  affected  me  strangely." 

"  I  have  observed  it,"  said  Esther,  "  and  can  sympathize 
with  you,  for  I  was  startled  and  saddened  by  it  myself; 
but  I  have  reasoned  myself  out  of  it.  There  can  jbe  nothing 
in  what  she  has  said." 

"  I  do  not  know,"  said  Miss  Godolphin.  "  I  almost  be 
lieve  that  some  beings  do,  in  some  way,  read  coming 
events." 

"  Oh  !  no,"  said  Esther.     "It  can  not  be." 

"Of  course,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "reason  rejects  their 
claims  to  supernatural  power ;  and  yet  it  is  wonderful  that 
their  predictions  are  sometimes  verified  by  succeeding 
events.  I  well  remember  that  the  evening  before  my 
cousin  started  on  that  disastrous  adventure,  a  woman,  not 
unlike  her  whom  we  saw  a  few  days  since,  came  to  the 
spot  where  we  were  standing,  and  looking  wildly  into  his 
face,  uttered  a  solemn  warning  to  him,  not  to  make  the 
journey  which  he  contemplated.  He  laughed  at  her 
words ;  but  she  repeated  them,  saying  that  if  he  persisted 
in  going,  sorrow  would  darken  his  father's  house.  Oh ! 
I  remember  so  vividly  her  appearance  and  her  words.  The 
brave  young  man  flushed  for  a  moment  at  the  woman's 
earnestness,  but  putting  a  piece  of  gold  in  her  hand,  he 
turned  from  her,  and  we  walked  away." 

"  Such  things  are  strange,"  said  Esther.    "  But  it  is  quite 


DE   VANE.  441 

impossible  that  one  can  read  the  future  without  divine  en 
lightenment  ;  and  we  know  they  do  not  possess  that." 

"  Perhaps  I  am  superstitious,"  said  Miss  Godolphin ; 
"  but  I  can  not  free  myself  from  the  dominion  which  such 
beings  exert  over  me." 

"  Every  one,"  said  Esther,  "  I  suppose,  has  a  tinge  of 
superstition,  whic-h  gives  its  coloring  to  life.  I  am  very 
sensible  of  it. .  I  require  some  time  to  bring  my  reason  to 
my  aid ;  and  for  days  after  meeting  the  strange  woman 
who  startled  us,  I  could  not  regain  my  composure." 

"Is  it  not  related  of  King  Saul,  that  he  consulted  the 
Witch  of  Endor  ?"  asked  Miss  Godolphin. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Esther,  "  and  the  result  was  a  great  shock 
to  the  stately  king.  When  the  prophet  appeared,  he  fell 
straightway  along  the  earth,  and  was  sore  afraid." 

"  It  is  very  wonderful,"  said  Miss  Godolphin.  "  What 
power  could  the  witch  have  possessed  over  Samuel  ?" 

"  Xone  whatever,"  said  Esther.  "  The  appearance  of 
the  prophet  must  have  been  permitted,  to  carry  out  the 
purposes  of  God,  in  regard  to  the  erring  monarch.  The 
incantations  of  the  pythoness  could  have  had  no  power 
over  a  prophet  of  God.  It  was  when  the  king  heard  the 
awful  words  from  the  lips  of  the  prophet,  that  on  the  nezt 
day  he  and  his  sons  were  to  be  slain  in  battle,  that,  over 
whelmed  with  such  a  heavy  message,  his  strength  gave 
way,  and  he  fell  prostrate." 

"  My  heart  always  mourns  over  his  fate,"  said  Miss  Go- 
dolphin.  "  I  have  heard  Mr.  Waring  describe  him  in  a 
way  that  interested  and  saddened  me  beyond  expression : 
liis  early  life,  his  modesty,  his  splendid  person,  his  grand 
administration  of  the  affairs  of  his  kingdom,  his  declining 
fortunes,  his  clinging  to  the  sceptre  until  it  was  torn  from 
his  grasp  on  a  bloody  field ;  and  then  his  regal  courage, 
and  his  death  upon  a  mountain-side  from  which  he  could 
19* 


442  DE   VANE. 

look  out  upon  the  lost  battle,  a  disaster  which  his  pride 
would  not  suffer  him  to  survive." 

The  next  day  Waring  called  at  Leasowes,  and  held  a 
long  conversation  with  Esther.  He  had  observed  the 
deepening  gloom  of  Miss  Godolphin,  and  it  saddened  him. 
The  cloud  which  threw  its  shadow  upon  her,  wrapped 
him  too  in  its  folds,  for  his  interest  in  her  had  become  so 
strong,  as  to  control  his  thoughts  and  emotions. 

Esther  dealt  with  him  frankly.  She  knew  that  De  Vane 
had  informed  him  of  the  history  of  Miss  Godolphin,  and 
she  therefore  spoke  with  the  greater  freedom.  Her  interest 
in  Waring  could  not  have  been  greater  if  he  had  been  a 
brother.  She  was  resolved  that  he  should  not  be  deceived 
in  any  thing,  if  she  could  prevent  it ;  and  therefore,  when 
he  spoke  to  her  at  Leasowes,  she  gave  him  a  full  statement 
of  facts  so  far  as  she  was  herself  acquainted  with  them. 

"  This  I  learned,"  she  said,  in  concluding  her  statement, 
"  from  Miss  Godolphin,  and  I  am  sure,  that  so  far  from 
wishing  to  conceal  it  from  you,  she  would  desire  you  to  be 
fully  informed  of  it. 

"  It  corresponds  perfectly,"  said  Waring,  "  with  what 
De  Vane  said  to  me ;  and  he  heard  the  facts  from  Miss 
Guilford.  But  upon  one  point,  I  wish  you  to  speak  to  me 
without  reserve.  Did  Miss  Godolphin  ever  love  her 
cousin  ?" 

"  Never,"  said  Esther.  "  Of  that  I  am  fully  assured. 
She  herself  spoke  to  me  in  a  way  to  satisfy  me  that  her 
heart  was  never  interested.  On  that  you  may  rely." 

"  Why,  then,"  said  Waring,  "  this  sadness — this  pro 
tracted  grief?" 

"It  springs,"  said  Esther,  "from  deep  sensibility,  and 
from  unjust  self-accusation.  That  is  the  sole  cause  of  it, 
I  assure  you.  She  has  suffered  beyond  description;  but 
if  her  cousin  stood  before  her  to-day,  to  urge  his  suit,  she 
would  reject  him." 


DE   VANE.  443 

Waring  looked  relieved. 

"  Thank  you,  my  friend,"  he  said,  "  thank  you.  I  need 
not  explain  to  you  why  I  have  sought  this  interview.  Of 
course,  you  comprehend  the  nature  of  my  interest  in  Miss 
Godolphin." 

Esther  smiled.     "  I  think  so,"  she  said. 

"  I  do  not  know  how  Miss  Godolphin  regards  me.  She 
is  so  brilliant,  and  is,  in  some  respects,  so  aristocratic,  that 
it  is  impossible  to  say  how  she  may  view  me,  my  opinions, 
my  creed,  or  my  people." 

Esther  was  silent  for  a  moment.  She  felt  the  extreme 
difficulty  of  her  position.  She  did  not  know  how  Miss 
Godolphin  regarded  her  friend,  and  she  thought  it  possible 
Waring's  apprehensions  were  not  unfounded. 

"  Miss  Godolphin's  nature,"  she  said  at  length,  "  is  a 
noble  one.  She  has  heart,  but  I  think  that  her  habitual 
sadness — produced  by  the  fate  of  her  cousin — has  prevented 
her  feeling  an  interest  in  any  one,  beyond  that  of  friend 
ship." 

"  I  hope,"  said  Waring,  "  that  you  will  permit  me  some 
times  to  speak  with  you  upon  this  subject." 

"  Most  willingly,"  said  Esther.  "  You  know,  Mr.  War 
ing,  that  you  are  my  brother." 

"  And  you  may  be  assured  that  I  shall  be,  while  I  live," 
said  Waring. 

He  took  his  leave  ;  and  Esther  felt  a  strong  desire  to  do 
what  she  could  to  make  brighter  and  happier  the  path  of 
the  noble  and  true  man,  whose  pure  heart  and  great  intel 
lect  were  consecrated  to  the  noblest  task  of  life,  and  who, 
with  all  his  learning,  had  the  guileless  simplicity  of  a  lit 
tle  child. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

"  A  CHANGE  came  o'er  the  spirit  of  my  dream ; 
The  Wanderer  was  returned." 

LORD  BYRON. 

ON  Saturday  morning,  Esther  had  gone  to  Leasowes 
early,  intending  to  pass  an  hour  or  two  with  the  little 
girls  before  going  into  the  town.  It  was  her  wish  to 
visit  the  book-store  of  Mr.  Mtiller,  that  she  might  select 
something  to  present  to  Mr.  Springfield,  upon  the  recur 
rence  of  his  birthday — a  mark  of  respect  and  affection 
which  she  never  omitted. 

She  had  been  in  her  grounds  but  a  half-hour,  and  was 
walking  with  little  Mary  Sinclair  and  one  or  two  others, 
when  she  saw  Mrs.  Habersham's  coach  dash  up  to  the 
gate.  The  footman  threw  open  the  door,  and  Miss  Go- 
dolphin,  leaping  out,  disdaining  the  steps,  rushed  through 
the  gate,  and  sprang  to  -where  Esther  was  standing  in  the 
midst  of  the  little  group,  who,  dismayed  at  her  impetu 
osity,  gave  way.  She  threw  her  arms  about  Esther,  and 
exclaimed  : 

"  O  Esther  !  Esther  !  he  lives  !  He  has  reached  Eng 
land  !" 

Her  agitation  was  very  great.  Her  face  was  glowing, 
and  it  beamed  with  a  joy  which  Esther  had  never  seen  it 
wear  before. 

"  Do  you  not  understand  ?"  she  exclaimed.  "  Hubert 
Godolphin,  my  cousin,  who  was  lost  to  us,  is  living,  and 
has  returned  to  England." 

(444) 


DE  VANE.  445 

"  Oh  !  is  it  possible  ?"  cried  Esther.  "  The  dead  is 
alive,  and  the  lost  is  found." 

"  Yes,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  that  beautiful  saying  is 
realized  perfectly.  I  have  just  received  a  letter  from  Sir 
George,  overflowing  with  kindness.  He  begs  me  to  par 
don  all  his  harshness.  Oh  !  what  a  mountain  has  rolled 
from  me  !  It  really  seems  as  if  the  words  of  the  strange 
woman  had  already  been  fulfilled — that  the  darkness  which 
clouds  the  morning  passes  away,  leaving  the  heavens  bright 
er  than  ever  before" 

How  resplendent  she  was,  standing  in  the  October  sun, 
the  whole  face  and  form  radiant  with  joy  !  She  accom 
panied  Esther  to  the  house,  and  handed  her  Sir  George's 
letter.  It  recounted  the  adventures  of  his  son.  He  was 
dangerously  wounded,  but  not  slain  in  battle,  and  had 
been  carried  a  prisoner  into  the  mountains,  where  he  had 
passed  some  three  years,  before  he  could  effect  a  commu 
nication  with  the  British  Minister  at  Constantinople. 
After  that,  he  was  speedily  released,  returned  to  England, 
and  intends  now  to  visit  the  United  States." 

"  Then  we  shall  see  him  here,"  said  Esther. 

"  So  it  seems,"  said  Miss  Godolphin.  "  We  shall  expect 
him  daily,  until  his  arrival.  Oh  !  you  can  not  imagine 
how  happy  I  am." 

Esther  looked  a  little  grave.  She  was  the  soul  of  truth. 
She  had  assured  Waring  that  Miss  Godolphin  had  never 
loved  her  cousin.  Had  she  misinterpreted  her  own  heart, 
when  she  said  so  to  Esther  ?  Did  she  really  love  him  ? 
Would  his  loyalty,  under  so  many  adverse  circumstances, 
win  her  heart,  if  he  had  never  succeeded  in  doing  so 
hitherto  ? 

She  trembled  a  little  for  Waring ;  but  a  few  weeks 
would  decide  the  questions  which  she  so  rapidly  addressed 
to  herself.  Her  solicitude  was  so  great,  that  it  appeared 
in  her  manner.  Miss  Godolphin  observed  it,  and  said  : 


446  DE  VANE. 

"  You  do  not  sympatliize  with  me,  Esther.  Oh  !  if  you 
could  know  what  I  have  suffered,  you  would  rejoice  with 
me." 

"I  do  rejoice  with  you,  dear  Hortensia,  heartily,"  she 
said.  "  No  one  has  felt  a  truer  sympathy  with  you  than 
myself." 

She  rose,  and  kissed  Miss  Godolphin  fervently. 

"  And  now,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  I  must  hasten  back 
to  my  aunt.  These  letters  came  only  this  morning,  and 
after  we  had  read  them,  I  said  to  her  that  I  must  see  you, 
and  let  you  know  my  joy." 

They  embraced  each  other,  and  Miss  Godolphin  was 
about  leaving  the  house,  when,  turning  again  to  Esther, 
she  said : 

"  But  you  are  not  to  pass  all  the  morning  here.  Will 
you  not  take  a  seat  with  me,  and  drive  into  the  town  ?" 

"  With  pleasure,"  said  Esther.  "  Let  me  detain  you 
but  a  moment." 

Giving  some  directions  to  Mrs.  Green,  she  accompanied 
Miss  Godolphin  to  the  carriage,  and  driving  to  the  book 
store,  she  entered  it,  to  make  her  selection  for  Mr.  Spring 
field's  library. 

After  looking  over  the  shelves  for  some  time,  turning 
to  the  table  where  the  books  just  received  were  placed, 
she  found  a  fine  copy  of  Jeremy  Taylor's  works,  an  Eng 
lish  edition,  just  imported,  and  she  directed  that  it  should 
be  sent  to  her. 

She  was  about  to  leave  the  store,  when  Waring  and  De 
Vane  entered  it,  and  seeing  her,  walked  to  the  alcove 
where  she  was  standing. 

"  We  are  fortunate,  Miss  Wordsworth,"  said  Waring. 
"  We  did  not  know  that  we  should  meet  you  here." 

Esther  explained  the  object  of  her  coming,  and  showed 
the  volumes  which  she  had  purchased. 

"  They  are  beautiful,"  said  De  Vane ;  "  and  the  little 


DE  VANE.  447 

acquaintance  that  I  have  with  the  writings  of  Jeremy 
Taylor,  makes  me  desire  to  read  his  works  at  length." 

"  They  are  most  attractive,"  said  Waring.  "  They,  are 
as  varied  and  beautiful  as  nature." 

Stepping  to  the  counter  where  Mr.  Miiller  stood,  he 
inquired  if  he  could  duplicate  the  set  which  Miss  Words 
worth  had  just  purchased  ;  and  being  informed  that  there 
was  one  more  copy,  bound  in  somewhat  different  style,  he 
directed  that  it  should  be  stamped  with  the  words, 
GEOEGE  DE  VANE,  on  each  volume,  and  sent  to  Mrs. 
Bowen's. 

Returning  to  where  De  Vane  and  Esther  were  standing, 
she  said  :  "  I  have  a  very  gratifying  piece  of  intelligence 
to  communicate." 

Both  the  gentlemen  looked  eagerly  at  her,  and  awaited 
her  words.  She  then  proceeded  to  inform  them  of  the 
facts  made  known  to  her  by  Miss  Godolphin,  in  regard  to 
her  cousin,  Hubert  Godolphin.  Both  expressed  their  as 
tonishment  and  their  gratification. 

"  And  how  does  it  affect  Miss  Godolphin  ?"  asked  De 
Vane. 

"  It  has  filled  her  with  joy,"  said  Esther.  "  Xever  have 
I  witnessed  such  an  effect  produced  by  a  letter,  as  Sir 
George  Godolphin's  produced  on  her.  It  was  an  ample 
apology  for  all  his  previous  want  of  generosity  ;  a  full 
atonement,  so  far  as  an  acknowledgment  of  the  kind  could 
constitute  it,  for  his  harshness." 

"  And  the  heaven  of  her  soul  will  now  be  cloudless," 
said  De  Vane. 

"  Yes,"  said  Esther,  with  emphasis.  "  And  I  must  in 
form  you,  also,  that  Hubert  Godolphin  is  to  visit  his 
cousin  immediately,  and  bear  his  father's  acknowledg 
ments  in  person,  for  past  injustice." 

Waring's  face  flushed,  and  De  Vane  looked  surprised. 

"  It  is  all  very  strange,"  said  De  Vane.      "  Mehercule  ! 


448  DE  VANE. 

Waring,  I  believe  that  the  sibyl  saw  the  coming  event, 
when  she  looked  so  steadily  at  Miss  Godolphin,  and  ut 
tered  those  remarkable  words." 

"  It  is  simply,"  said  "Waring  gently,  "  one  of  those  re 
markable  things  which  sometimes  occur  in  the  moral 
world,  to  startle  us." 

He  looked  a  little  troubled.  Esther  felt  for  him.  She 
had  almost  dreaded  to  make  the  communication  to  him ; 
but  she  thought  it  better  that  he  should  hear  it  from  her, 
rather  than  be  startled  by  the  announcement  from  Miss 
Godolphin,  with  her  exuberant  joy. 

"  I  am  somewhat  curious  to  see  a  gentleman  who  has 
endured  such  fortunes,"  said  De  Vane.  "  When  is  he  to 
arrive  ?" 

"He  is  to  be  looked  for  daily,  as  he  was  to  sail  in  the 
next  vessel  after  that  which  brought  his  letters." 

Waring  was  very  grave ;  but  his  self-possession  had  re 
turned,  and  he  entered  into  cheerful  conversation  with  De 
Vane  and  Esther  upon  the  effect  which  this  event  must 
produce  upon  Miss  Godolphin. 

After  speaking  of  books  and  friends,  Esther  left  the 
store,  and  Waring  and  De  Yane  soon  followed,  walking 
slowly  homeward. 

"  By  the  way,  Waring,"  said  De  Yane,  "  let  us  take  the 
shop  of  our  friend  Hobbs  in  the  way,  and  give  him  instruc 
tions  about  our  horses  ;  their  shoes  want  attention." 

Waring  assenting,  they  visited  the  blacksmith ;  and  it 
being  his  habit  to  rest  at  noon,  they  found  him  deep  in  a 
book,  as  if  utterly  unconscious  of  forge  and  sledge-ham 
mer. 

"  How  are  you,  Mr.  Hobbs  ?"  said  De  Yane,  rousing 
him. 

"  Bless  my  soul  and  body,  .Mr.  De  Yane,  is  that  you  ? 
I'm  well,  thank'ee.  How  is  it  with  yourself?  How  d'ye 
do,  Mr.  Waring  ?" 


DE   VANE.  449 

"We  are  both  pretty  well,  Mr.  Hobbs,"  said  De  Vane. 
"  Our  horseback  exercise  does  us  good." 

"  Nothing  like  it  in  the  world,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Hobbs. 
"but  striking  with  the  sledge-hammer;  that'll  cure  any 
dyspeptic  in  the  world." 

"  I  suspect  you  are  right,"  said  Waring.  "  But,  Mr. 
Hobbs,  we  should  soon  break  down  at  that  business." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  said  the  blacksmith.  "  I  didn't  weigh 
a  hundred  and  thirty  when  I  began  the  trade,  and  now  I 
go  hard  on  to  two  hundred." 

The  gentlemen  both  laughed  as  the  honest  blacksmith 
raised  himself  to  his  full  height,  and  looked  as  if  he  could 
give  Hercules  a  tight  wrestle. 

"  What  are  you  reading  to-day,  Mr.  Hobbs  ?"  asked  De 
Yane. 

"  Why,  sir,"  said  he,  "  my  boy,  who  is  named  after  Gen 
eral  Marion,  brought  home  his  life,  by  Weems,  that  Mrs. 
Steele,  his  school-teacher,  gave  him ;  and  I  was  reading 
that." 

"  A  very  interesting  book,"  said  De  Vane.  "  I  like  to 
read  it  myself." 

"  It  is  interesting,"  said  the  blacksmith.  "  Jasper  and 
Newton  gave  them  chaps  that  they  attacked  thunder." 

"  Oh  !  yes,"  said  De  Vane  ;  "  they  were  brave  fellows." 

"  But  the  best  thing  in  the  book,"  continued  the  black 
smith,  "  is  where  Sergeant  McDonald  got  Seline  out  of  the 
clutches  of  that  infernal  old  tory.  I  should  have  liked  to 
have  the  shoeing  of  that  horse.  I'd  have  done  it  for  Mc 
Donald  all  the  days  of  his  life  without  charging  him  a 
cent." 

Perceivino-  that  Mr.  Hobbs  was  becoming  rather  ani- 

O  ^ 

mated,  De  Vane  said :  "  Speaking  of  shoeing  horses,  we 
called  to  request  you  to  pay  special  attention  to  the  feet 
of  ours.  Perhaps  it  would  be  well  to  make  their  shoes 
somewhat  lighter." 


450  DE   VANE. 

"  I  like  a  good  heavy  shoe  on  a  horse,  myself,"  said  the 
blacksmith ;  "  but  as  you  so  seldom  drive  yours,  it  may 
be  just  as  well  to  make  them  lighter." 

"  Do,"  said  De  Vane  ;  "  and  instead  of  heels,  make  the 
swell  in  the  shoe  a  little  fuller  at  the  back-part  of  the  foot, 
and  the  toe  thinner." 

"  I'll  do  it,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Hobbs,  "  but  the  shoes  won't 
last  any  time." 

"  Oh  !  never  mind  that,"  said  De  Vane.  "  We  do  not 
ride  a.  great  deal." 

"  That  horse  of  yours,  Mr.  "Waring,"  said  the  black 
smith,  "  is  the  best  conditioned  thing  that  ever  I  saw. 
He's  most  equal  to  Miss  Wordsworth's  horse." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  speak  well  of  him,"  said  War 
ing  ;  "  and  if  he  equals  Miss  Wordsworth's  horse,  he  must 
be  fine." 

"  That  horse,"  said  the  blacksmith,  "  has  got  almost  as 
much  sense  as  a  human.  I've  seen  Miss  Wordsworth 
riding  him,  and  the  way  he  behaves  himself  is  beautiful ; 
and  when  I  go  to  shoe  him,  if  I  just  tell  him  to  hold  up 
his  foot,  he  does  it  as  natural  as  if  he  spoke  English." 

"  I  suspect  he  understands  it,"  said  Waring,  laughing. 

Bidding  the  blacksmith  good-morning,  they  walked  to 
Mrs.  Bowen's. 

Waring's  interview  with  the  blacksmith  had  done  him 
good ;  and  De  Vane  v/as  pleased  to  see  that  he  was  be 
coming  cheerful. 

"  That  man,"  said  Waring,  "  has  a  great  amount  of  good 
in  him.  He  sees  the  strong  points  of  a  book  at  once.  If 
the  fellow  was  not  quite  so  strong  in  his  language,  I 
should  enjoy  his  conversation  more." 

"  He  restrains  himself  in  your  presence,"  said  De  Vane. 
"  If  you  could  hear  him  indulge  his  vocabulary  when  I 
am  alone  with  him,  you  would  pronounce  him  decidedly 
emphatic." 


DE  VANE.  451 

"  You  must  break  the  habit  in  him,  De  Vane.  He  has 
great  faith  in  you,  and  you  can  control  him." 

"  I  have  once  or  twice  remonstrated  with  him,"  said  De 
Yane,  "  but,  before  he  knows  it,  he  breaks  out  again.  I 
must  give  him  the  names  of  some  of  the  heathen  gods  to 
swear  by — Vulcan,  for  instance." 

Waring  laughed,  and  they  entered  the  house. 

Some  short  time  after  De  Vane  had  entered  his  room, 
Mr.  Midler's  messenger  came  with  the  package  of  books, 
which  he  said  he  had  been  directed  to  leave  there. 

"  There  must  be  some  mistake,"  said  De  Vane.  "  I 
made  no  purchase  at  the  book-store  this  morning." 

"  Mr.  Miiller  said  they  were  for  you,  sir,"  said  the  mes 
senger  ;  and  setting  down  his  basket,  he  laid  the  books 
on  the  table. 

De  Vane  opened  the  package,  and  found  his  name, 
stamped  in  gold,  on  the  back. 

"  Mr.  Waring  bought  them,  sir,"  said  the  messenger, 
"  and  said  they  were  to  be  left  here  for  you." 

De  Vane  at  once  comprehended  it,  and  dismissed  the 
messenger. 

He  was  touched  by  this  act  of  kindness  on  the  part  of 
Waring.  The  selection  of  books,  the  delicacy  with  which 
it  was  done,  and  the  value  of  the  gift,  were  felt  by  him. 
When  he  met  Waring  in  the  evening,  he  thanked  him 
warmly,  and  assured  him  that  he  could  have  made  him  no 
more  acceptable  gift. 

"I  trust,  De  Vane,"  he  said,  "that  you  will  find  your 
interest  in  the  grand  old  preacher  increase  as  you  read  his 
works.  There  is  a  wonderful  richness  in  his  style,  and  a 
refreshing  purity  pervading  his  teachings,  of  which  one 
never  grows  weary." 

"  I  shall  put  myself  under  his  instructions  systematical 
ly,"  said  De  Vane,  "  and  shall  endeavor  to  follow  them 
faithfully." 


452  DE  VAIsTE. 

Waring  was  delighted.  He  felt  that  the  taste  of  De 
Vane  would  not  only  not  be  offended  by  the  works  which 
he  had  put  into  his  hands,  but  that  their  beauties  would 
allure  him  into  far  deeper  researches  than  he  could  be  in 
duced  to  make  in  any  theological  writings  less  attractive. 
And  this  pure,  generous,  thorough  Christian  found,  in  his 
effort  to  bring  his  friend  into  the  path  of  life,  something 
to  brighten  his  own  spirit,  just  now  troubled  by  appre 
hensions  respecting  his  relations  with  Miss  Godolphin,  as 
the  clouds  which  skirt  the  horizon  are  sometimes  illumin 
ed  with  golden  tints  by  a  warm  ray  of  light  streaming 
upon  them  from  the  sun,  which  they  mantle  with  their 
drapery  as  he  sinks  to  rest. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

"I  HAD  not  known  her  long,  but  loved  her  more 
Than  I  could  dream  of  then.    Oh  !  even  now 
I  dare  not  dwell  upon  my  passion  :  more 
Than  life  itself  I  loved  her,  and  still  love." 

WILLIAM  CROSS  WILLIAMSON. 

THE  town  was  unusually  gay.  The  assembling  of  the 
Legislature  had  brought  there  the  most  eminent  men  in 
the  State,  wrho  were  either  members  of  that  body,  or  who 
came  as  visitors,  many  of  them  bringing  their  families,  to 
pass  a  few  weeks  at  a  place  so  attractive.  Some  of  them 
took  furnished  houses,  and  entertained  handsomely  ; 
brought  their  equipages,  servants,  and  plate  with  them ; 
and  the  little  capital  shone  with  a  far  higher  splendor  than 
many  larger  ones.  The  triumph  of  General  Jackson  was 
complete  ;  and  the  prospect  of  a  new  administration,  com 
ing  in  with  so  much  of  popular  favor,  lent  extraordinary 
interest  to  political  topics. 

Mr.  Clarendon  was  in  the  highest  spirits.  He  enter 
tained  magnificently,  and  assembled  at  his  house,  from 
time  to  time,  the  most  brilliant  people.  Be  Yane  was 
recognized  as  a  man  of  great  promise,  and  he  received 
marked  and  nattering  attentions  from  the  leading  men  of 
the  State.  Mr.  Le  Grande  was  known  to  be  his  friend,  and 
Mr.  Clarendon  openly  predicted  his  future  eminence.  A 
grand  career  was  opening  before  him.  As  a  very  marked 
compliment,  he  was  invited  by  Mr.  Le  Grande  to  meet  at 
dinner  a  select  number  of  the  most  eminent  men  in  the 
State,  where  the  programme  of  the  incoming  Administra- 

(453) 


454  DE   VANE. 

tion  was  discussed,  its  policy  foreshadowed,  and  the  mem 
bers  of  the  Cabinet  were  brought  on  the  tapis — a  political 
dinner,  where  the  work  of  the  whole  political  campaign 
was  laid  out.  Nor  was  it  an  empty  compliment  paid  to  De 
Vane,  for  he  was  drawn  out  in  conversation,  and  his  large 
views  were  appreciated  by  the  eminent  men  who  sat  with 
him.  Self-possessed,  and  yet  deferential  to  men  of  larger 
experience  than  himself,  he  expressed  his  opinions  with 
freedom  when  called  out ;  and  so  successfully  did  he  repre 
sent  them,  that  he  made  an  impression  upon  that  small  but 
brilliant  assemblage  that  never  was  effaced. 

The  session  of  the  Legislature  was  one  of  unusual  inter 
est  ;  and  Mr.  Le  Grande  distinguished  himself  by  a  lumi 
nous  speech  upon  a  proposition  which  had  been  brought 
forward  to  reduce  the  laws  of 'the  State  into  a  code. 

It  being  understood  that  he  was  to  speak  on  a  certain 
day,  the  galleries  and  lobbies  were  thronged,  and  among 
the  number  De  Vane  and  Esther  were  seen  favorably 
seated. 

There,  too,  Mrs.  Habersham  and  Miss  Godolphin,  attend 
ed  by  Waring,  had  seats.  Mrs.  Clarendon  was  present, 
with  two  or  three  ladies  from  the  sea-board,  attended  by 
Mr.  Clarendon. 

The  speech  of  Mr.  Le  Grande  was  made  in  opposition  to 
the  measure.  He  insisted  that  a  great  system  like  their 
law  could  not  advantageously  be  embraced  within  a  code ; 
that  the  Code  of  Napoleon  afforded  no  proper  precedent  for 
any  such  undertaking ;  that  our  law  had  grown  up  with 
society,  advancing  with  its  progress,  accommodating  itself 
to  its  wants  ;  and  that  Napoleon  introduced  his  Code 
really  to  reconstruct  society,  when  the  French  Revolution 
had  swept  away  every  thing  established,  and  had  over 
thrown  all  barriers.  The  argument  was  fine,  and  it 
heightened  the  reputation  even  of  Mr.  Le  Grande.  The 
scheme  was  defeated, 


DE   VANE.  455 

At  this  session,  too,  a  case  of  impeachment  came  up,  of 
very  great  interest.  It  affected  the  privileges  of  an  emi 
nent  citizen,  whose  public  services  and  high  personal  quali 
ties  endeared  him  to  the  people  of  the  State.  Several  of 
the  ablest  members  of  the  House  of  Representatives  were 
appointed  to  conduct  the  prosecution,  the  Senate  being  the 
tribunal  before  which  it  was  heard.  The  defense  was  con 
fided  to  Mr.  Clarendon.  He  conducted  it  with  so  much 
ability,  so  much  energy,  so  much  grace,  so  much  learning, 
that  it  earned  for  him  imperishable  renown.  The  whole 
trial,  from  the  beginning  to  the  end,  was  most  impressive. 
The  venerable  man  who  "took  his  seat  day  after  day  with 
meek  dignity,  the  august  tribunal  before  which  he  was  ar 
raigned,  the  deep  sympathy  felt  for  him  by  his  judges,  the 
recollection  of  his  public  services,  the  clouds  which  were 
already  hanging  their  solemn  drapery  around  the  far-ad 
vanced  evening  of  his  life,  the  splendid  array  of  talent  in 
the  committee  selected  to  conduct  the  prosecution,  and 
the  brilliant  and  powerful  exhibition  of  intellect  and  ardor 
shown  by  his  great  advocate — all  contributed  to  make  it 
a  deeply  affecting  spectacle,,  over  which  a  sad  splendor 
reigned  throughout.  Mr.  Clarendon's  speech  was  full  of 
learning  and  eloquence,  rivaling  the  highest  oratorical 
display  which  was  elicited  upon  the  trial  of  Warren  Hast 
ings  ;  and  if  it  had  been  delivered  in  Westminster  Hall,  on 
such  an  occasion,  it  would  have  ranked  him  at  once  with 
the  great  Parliamentary  speakers  whose  fame  is  limited 
only  by  the  bounds  of  civilization.  Uttered  where  it  was, 
in  the  presence  of  an  audience  as  cultivated  and  appre 
ciative  as  any  country  could  furnish,  it  won  for  him  the 
highest  distinction,  and  inaugurated  that  splendid  career 
which  the  whole  nation  subsequently  witnessed.  Power 
ful  and  brilliant  as  the  defense  was,  it  could  not  avert  the 
solemn  sentence  which  the  great  tribunal  was  compelled, 
from  a  controlling  sense  of  duty,  to  deliver.  But  even 


456  DE  VANE. 

then,  the  brief,  subdued,  but  beautiful  speech  which  the 
venerable  man  uttered  as  he  bowed  before  the  inexorable 
authority  of  his  judges,  prepared  by  Mr.  Clarendon,  melt 
ed  them  to  tears  ;  and  the  words  of  the  President  of  the 
Senate,  sonorous  and  full  of  dignity,  touched  with  a  gener 
ous  sympathy,  almost  trembled  as  they  conveyed  the  stern 
judgment  of  a  court  too  pure  to  yield  to  passion,  and  too 
great  not  to  be  affected  by  such  a  spectacle — age  and  suf 
fering  appealing  in  vain  in  sight  of  the  form  of  Justice 
holding  aloft  the  scales  in  the  clear  light  of  Truth. 

De  Vane  heard  Mr.  Clarendon's  great  speech  with  un 
controllable  enthusiasm.  It  swept  him  like  a  torrent,  and 
Esther,  who  was  seated  by  his  side,  observed  him,  as  the 
grand  and  ardent  nature  of  the  young  Virginian,  fired  by 
the  oratory  of  his  noble  friend,  flamed  up  with  full  sympa 
thy  and  increased  admiration. 

"  Mehercule !  Miss  Wordsworth,"  he  exclaimed,  "  the 
world  rarely  hears  any  thing  like  that.  It  is  the  revivifi 
cation  of  the  godlike  speech  which  was  uttered  under  the 
skies  of  Greece.  It  has  never  been  excelled,  in  ancient  or 
modern  times." 

"  Glorious  !"  said  Esther,  "  glorious  !  O  Mr.  De  Vane  ! 
what  power  there  is  in  eloquence.  Neither  the  thunder  of 
cannon  nor  the  fury  of  the  storm  itself  can  rival  it.  It  is, 
as  you  say,  godlike." 

All  around  them  there  wTas  the  greatest  enthusiasm,  and 
praises  were  lavished  upon  the  orator.  Presently  they 
met  Waring  and  his  party,  and  the  friends  greeted  each 
other  in  that  warm  way  which  prevails  when  great  senti 
ments  animate  and  control  us. 

"  I'll  venture  to  say,"  said  Waring,  addressing  himself 
to  Esther,  "  that  De  Vane  has  been  swearing  by  Hercules. 
Has  he  not,  now  ?" 

She  laughed,  and  said  :  "  I  believe  I  did  hear  some  such 
classical  exclamation,  but  I  think  it  must  be  pardoned,  and 


DE  VANE.  457 

conceded  as  an  involuntary  tribute  to  surpassing  elo 
quence." 

"  Certainly,"  said  Miss  Godolpliin ;  "  Mr.  Be  Vane*  should 
be  allowed  to  swear  by  all  the  gods  of  Olympus  in  wit 
nessing  such  a  triumph  of  his  friend." 

At  this  moment  Mr.  Clarendon,  accompanied  by  Mr.  Le 
Grande,  came  up  to  the  group,  where  they  stood  waiting 
to  receive  him,  and  they  offered  him  their  congratulations. 
He  thanked  them,  and  said :  "  Would  that  I  could  have 
done  more  for  the  old  man  !  His  gray  hairs  appeal  to  me 
in  a  way  that  is  positively  dreadful.  I  suffer  unspeak 
ably." 

"  Then  you  can  not  save  him  ?"  exclaimed  Esther. 

"  My  dear  child,"  said  he,  laying  his  hand  kindly  on 
hers,  "  I  fear  not." 

"  It  is  too  sad,"  said  Miss  Godolpliin,  her  eyes  filling 
with  tears. 

They  entered  their  carriages  and  drove  away.  It  was 
as  Mr.  Clarendon  feared  it  would  be,  but  it  afforded  one  of 
the  finest  exhibitions  of  the  ascendency  of  the  higher  quali 
ties  of  humanity  which  the  world  has  ever  witnessed. 

In  the  course  of  the  session,  Mr.  Hallam  was  elected  one 
of  the  Chancellors  of  the  State,  and  became  associated 
with  the  venerable  Chancellor  De  Lolme,  whose  learning, 
accomplishments,  and  manners  had  long  adorned  that 
bench,  and  whose  elegant  hospitality  contributed  largely 
to  refine  and  elevate  the  tone  of  the  society  in  which  he 
lived. 

Some  few  days  after  the  delivery  of  Mr.  Clarendon's 
great  speech,  De  Yane  met  him  walking  toward  the  State 
House,  with  a  gentleman  whose  appearance  at  once  inter 
ested  him.  He  was  evidently  a  stranger,  as  evidently  a 
foreigner,  and  there  was  in  his  manner  something  so  dis 
tinctly  aristocratic,  that  it  was  impossible  to  overlook  it. 
His  features,  without  being  decidedly  intellectual,  were 
20 


458  DE   VANE.  x 

fine  ;  his  complexion  was  dark,  as  were  his  hair  and  eyes  ; 
and  there  was  a  manliness  in  his  bearing  which  imparted 
unusual  dignity  to  the  appearance  of  one  so  young — he 
could  scarcely  be  thirty.  As  De  Yane  was  about  to  pass, 
after  lifting  his  hat  to  Mr.  Clarendon,  that  gentleman  said : 

"  Excuse  me,  Mr.  De  Vane,  for  detaining  you  a  moment. 
I  wish  to  present  you  to  Mr.  Godolphin,  son  of  Sir  George, 
who  has  just  arrived  from  England." 

After  an  interchange  of  the  usual  civilities,  the  crentle- 

O  7  O 

men  separated,  and  De  Vane  walked  directly  to  Mr.  Spring 
field's  ;  and  upon  being  shown  into  the  library,  asked  for 
Miss  Wordsworth.  Esther  had  but  a  moment  before  re 
turned  from  Leasowes,  and  coming  into  the  room  with  hat 
and  shawl  on,  she  said : 

"  Rather  than  keep  you  waiting,  Mr.  De  Vane,  I  come 
without  even  stopping  to  take  off  my  hat." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  De  Vane,  rising  to  take  her  extended 
hand.  "  I  was  anxious  to  see  you,  and  I  am  glad  that  you 
are  so  prompt  in  coming  to  meet  me.  Do  you  know  that 
Hubert  Godolphin  is  here  ?" 

"  Indeed  !"  exclaimed  Esther,  becoming  very  pale.  "  No, 
I  had  not  heard  it.  Have  you  seen  him  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  De  Vane.  "  I  met  him  on  the  sidewalk  with 
Mr.  Clarendon,  who'presented  me  to  him.  Have  you  met 
Miss  Godolphin  this  morning  ?" 

"  I  have  not,"  said  Esther.  "  I  have  been  all  the  morn 
ing  at  Leasowes.  Do  you  know  when  Mr.  Godolphin  ar 
rived  ?" 

"  Last  night,"  said  De  Vane.  "  He  brings  letters  of  in 
troduction  to  Mr.  Clarendon,  and  he  has  gone  with  him  to 
the  State  House,  to  present  him  to  Mr.  Le  Grande,  and 
some  two  or  three  celebrities  besides.  I  feel  the  greatest 
anxiety  to  know  how  Miss  Godolphin  will  receive  her 
cousin.  My  interest  in  Waring  is  such,  that  I  am  positive 
ly  unhappy  about  him.  His  nature  has  wonderful  depth, 


DE   VANE.  459 

and  lie  is  attached  to  Miss  Godolphin  in  a  way  to  involve 
his  happiness  for  life.  If  he  should  be  disappointed  in  her, 
I  do  not  know  how  he  could  bear  it.  He  is  so  noble,  so 
gentle  and  yet  so  strong,  so  pure,  so  full  of  truth,  and 
with  such  an  intellect  as  to  entitle  him  to  the  homage  of 
all  men ;  that  I  do  not  know  how  any  woman  can  resist 
him,  if  he  should  honor  her  with  his  love." 

Esther  smiled  at  his  earnestness,  and  said :  "  Your  in 
terest  in  Mr.  Waring  does  not  exceed  my  own.  I  have 
observed  Miss  Godolphin,  and  have  wished  to  know 
whether  her  regard  for  our  friend  is  that  of  mere  friend 
ship,  or  something  deeper  and  intenser ;  but  I  have  not 
been  able  to  satisfy  myself  respecting  what  is  at  once  so " 
interesting  and  so  delicate  a  subject.  That  she  does  not 
love  Hubert  Godolphin,  I  am  confident ;  at  least,  I  am  very 
confident  that  she  has  not  loved  him  heretofore.  What 
his  presence  may  effect,  and  this  new  proof  of  the  strength 
of  his  own  attachment,  I  can  not  say ;  but  her  nature  is 
noble,  and  the  earnestness  and  truth  of  her  character  really 
rise  into  grandeur." 

"Then  Waring  is  safe  !"  exclaimed  De  Yane.  " No  wo 
man  of  a  really  grand  nature  can  refuse  his  love." 

"You  must  not  overlook,"  said  Esther,  "the  influence 
of  caste.  The  tastes  of  Miss  Godolphin  might  incline  her 
to  the  style  of  life  which,  as  the  wife  of  the  son  of  Sir 
George,  she  could  lead,  notwithstanding  the  contempt 
which  she  avows  for  mere  conventional  rank,  unaccom 
panied  by  refinement  and  worth." 

"Never!"  said  De  Yane,  with  great  vehemence,  "never! 
I  would  stake  a  kingdom  upon  the  loyalty  of  Miss  Godol 
phin  to  those  sentiments  which  I  know,  Esther,  you  prize 
so  highly.  You  must  not  suffer  yourself  to  believe  that 
Waring  is  not  prized  just  as  highly  as  he  would  be,  if  he 
were  an  earl's  son." 

"  He  is,  of  course,  by  you,  Mr.  De  Yane,  and  by  all  who 


460  DE  VANE. 

feel  as  you  do.  But  after  all,  he  belongs  to  a  despised 
sect,  and  high,  as  Miss  Godolphin's  nature  is,  it  may  be 
that  she  would  hesitate  to  walk  through  life  by  the  side  of 
one  who  has  consecrated  himself  to  the  task  of  preaching 
the  Gospel,  not  only  to  the  rich  and  the  great,  but  to  the 
poor  and  the  outcast." 

De  Vane  rose,  and  walked  rapidly  across  the  room  sev 
eral  times.  He  was  profoundly  moved  by  Esther's  lan 
guage.  He  knew  that  she  loved  Waring  as  a  sister  loves 
an  only  brother,  and  he  saw  that  at  this  critical  con 
juncture  of  his  fortunes,  all  her  pride  was  roused  for  him; 
he  was  to  be  measured  with  a  patrician,  the  son  of  a  noble 
man  ;  wealth,  family,  every  thing  to  aid  the  one,  while 
the  other  could  only  offer  his  own  glorious  nature  and 
splendid  endowments,  without  fortune  or  rank  to  aid  him. 
And  the  very  majesty  of  her  own  transcendent  woman 
hood  displayed  itself  in  behalf  of  her  friend.  Her  form 
rose  to  its  full  height,  as  she  stood  near  the  centre  of  the 
library,  and  her  large  eyes  blazed  with  full  lustre.  Never 
had  De  Yane  seen  her  more  roused,  never  more  splendidly 
beautiful.  Her  height  and  color  gave  extraordinary  bril 
liancy  to  her  face,  and  the  consciousness  of  speaking  for 
her  friend,  for  her  sect,  for  her  people,  for  humanity  in  its 
native  worth — as  compared  with  the  pride  of  life,  and  the 
pretension  of  rank,  and  the  assumed  glory  of  conventional 
and  privileged  classes — imparted  to  her  an  air  nothing 
short  of  majestic.  There  she  stood,  a  daughter  of  the  peo 
ple,  and  De  Vane  felt  that  in  her  presence  the  titled  and 
the  great  might  bow  their  heads,  encircled  with  coronets, 
and  bend  their  jeweled  necks  in  homage. 

"  Esther,"  said  he,  "  I  should  regard  any  woman  with 
immeasurable  scorn,  who  could  weigh  fortune  or  rank 
against  the  simple,  native  qualities  of  such  a  man  as  War 
ing.  He  absolutely  ennobles  the  race  by  belonging  to  it. 
He  vindicates  humanity  from  its  low  estate  by  the  glory 


DE   VANE.  461 

of  his  nature.  As  to  Miss  Goclolphin's  estimate  of  him, 
we  shall  see  what  disclosures  time  may  make.  He  has 
never  yet  spoken  to  her  of  love;  nor  will  he,  until  this 
visit  of  her  cousin  has  ended.  Pie  is  too  proud,  or,  perhaps 
I  ought  to  say,  he  has  too  much  self-respect,  to  enter  into 
competition  with  any  man  for  the  hand  of  the  woman  he 
loves." 

Taking  Esther's  hand,  he  bent  his  head  and  touched  it 
with  his  lips,  and  left  the  house.  As  he  walked  toward 
Mrs.  Bowen's,  he  revolved  every  thing  in  connection  with 
the  relations  of  Waring  and  Miss  Godolphin,  which  could 
in  any  way  affect  them,  and  yet  he  could  reach  no  satis 
factory  conclusion.  He  sympathized  with  Esther's  anx 
iety,  and  almost  shared  her  jealous  pride  for  Waring ;  for 
he  comprehended  the  full  magnitude  of  the  opposition 
which  was  to  be  encountered  by  him  in  seeking  the  hand 
of  Miss  Godolphin.  His  own  relations  with  Esther  were' 
clouded  by  influences  springing  from  aristocratic  preju 
dices,  and  he  felt  how  powerful  they  were,  even  when  di 
rected  against  one  so  peerless  as  herself.  He  saw,  too, 
that  his  own  hopes  were  endangered  by  the  view  which 
Esther  was  now  disposed  to  take,  of  the  inherent  antago 
nism  between  the  tastes  of  that  aristocratic  class  and  the 
opinions  and  habits  of  her  own  people;  and  he  knew  her 
well  enough  to  comprehend  that  she  would  never  consent 
to  ally  herself  to  a  family  that  looked  with  disdain  upon  a 
people  of  whom  she  believed  the  world  was  not  worthy. 
She  would  never  consent  to  be  received  into  an  aristocratic 
circle  as  an  exceptional  case,  with  the  understanding  that 
she  was  to  look  coldly  upon  her  people  and  make  her  re 
ligious  views  as  little  obtrusive  as  possible.  She  was  at 
any  time  prepared,  like  the  Jewish  maiden,  to  offer  up  her 
life  as  a  sacrifice  for  the  glory  of  the  despised  people  to 
which  she  belonged,  and  she  would  have  smiled  as  she 
yielded  her  pure  bosom  to  the  glittering  steel  of  the  heroic 


462  DE  VANE. 

hand  that  was  to  smite  her ;  but  she  could  never  renounce 
them  for  the  sake  of  an  aristocratic  or  even  royal  alliance. 
She  was  content,  too,  to  endure  whatever  reproach  or  con 
tempt  might  be  visited  upon  her  people,  and  she  would  not 
have  exchanged  the  privilege  of  being  an  humble  worship 
er  in  that  chapel  for  a  diadem,  and  all  the  splendor  of  the 
most  gorgeous  establishments.  All  this  De  Vane  felt,  and 
his  passion  deepened  as  he  thought  of  her  Avhom  he  had 
just  seen  in  all  the  glow  of  awakened  and  almost  indignant 
earnestness.  He  entered  the  house.  Waring  had  not  yet 
arrived.  Going  to  his  own  room,  he  found  on  his  table  an 
invitation  from  Mr.  Clarendon  to  meet  Mr.  Hubert  Go- 
dolphin  the  next  day  at  dinner. 

Soon  after,  Waring  entered  the  house,  and  presently 
came  into  De  Vane's  room.  He  held  in  his  hand  a  note. 
It  was  an  invitation  from  Clarendon  to  dinner.  De  Vane 
rose  to  meet  his  friend  with  more  than  usual  respect  in  his 
manner,  and  offered  him  a  seat.  „ 

"  It  seems,"  said  Waring,  "  that  Mr.  Godolphin  has  ar 
rived.  Have  you  met  him  ?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  De  Vane,  "  I  met  him  this  morning,  in 
company  with  Mr.  Clarendon.  He  came  last  night ;  and 
we  are  to  join  him  at  dinner  to-morrow,  when  you  will 
have  the  opportunity  of  judging  for  yourself,  how  much 
he  is  to  be  admired  or — dreaded." 

Waring  smiled,  and  said :  "  I  see  that  you  do  not 
intend  to  describe  him.  You  go  to  Mr.  Clarendon's,  of 
course  ?" 

"  Of  course,"  replied  De  Vane  ;  "  and  you  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Waring.  "  Are  there  to  be  ladies,  or  is  it 
a  dinner  for  gentlemen  ?" 

"  For  gentlemen  only,  I  suppose,"  said  De  Vane  ;  "  the 
object  being  to  introduce  this  young  Englishman,  who 
rivals  Othello,  at  least,  in  hair-breadth  'scapes,  to  the 
celebrities  who  are  here,  you  being  one  of  them." 


DE   VANE.  463 

"  And  you,"  said  Waring. 

"  Oh  !"  said  De  Yane,  laughing,  "  I  am  invited  to  see 
the  dignitaries,  and  to  make  .myself  agreeable  generally. 
I  shall  expect  you  to  shine,  Waring.  You  must  lay  aside 
reserve,  and  give  them  an  opportunity  to  see  something 
of  that  wealth  which  you  so  carefully  conceal  in  general 
society." 

Waring  smiled,  but  made  no  reply. 

"  The  truth  is,"  said  De  Yane,  "  it  is  only  when  you  are 
with  friends— such,  for  instance,  as  Mr.  Springfield,  Mr. 
Clarendon,  and  myself — that  you  seem  at  all  disposed  to 
employ  your  capital ;  and  while  we  are  very  much  hon 
ored  by  yorr-  confidence,  we  feel  a  natural  desire  that  oth 
ers  should  Lnow  you  as  we  do  ;  so  you  must  really  rouse 
yourself." 

"  Such  is  my  organization,"  said  Waring,  "  that  I  con 
verse  freely  only  with  those  who  appreciate  what  I  have 
to  say.  You  never  knew  any  one  who  was  so  much 
affected  by  the  audience  he  addresses,  as  I  am.  Unaffect 
edly,  I  grow  warm  and  sympathizing  when  I  am  surround 
ed  by  those  who  are  cultivated,  and  in  whom  genial  nature 
has  created  the  living  soul — not  a  mere  half-torpid  faculty 
called  by  that  name.  Opaque  bodies  darken  me,  and 
dense  souls  oppress  me." 

"  I  have  observed  it,"  said  De  Yane  ;  "  but  we  shall  not 
meet  such  people  at  Mr.  Clarendon's.  I  have  observed, 
too,  that  you  must  be  drawn  out,  to  enable  you  to  take 
part  in  conversation  in  general  society,  even  when  it  is 
composed  of  the  most  intellectual  people.  In  short,  I  think 
you  are  a  little  proud,  and  do  not  like  to  display  your 
power,  unless  you  are  invited  to  do  so,  or  roused  by  oppo 
sition  ;  then  you  are  yourself.  I  would  give  a  great  deal 
to  see  you  fairly  roused  to-morrow,  by  Mr.  Le  Grande,  for 
instance,  or  by  Dr.  Hume,  if  he  should  happen  to  be 
present." 


464  DE   VANE. 

"We  must  'hear  Mr.  Godolphin,"  said  Waring.  "It 
would  hardly  be  proper  to  engross  the  conversation  at  a 
dinner-table  where  he  is  the  honored  guest." 

"  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  he  would  be  very  much 
obliged  to  you  for  taking  that  part  of  the  entertainment 
off  his  hands,"  said  De  Vane,  "  if  I  may  judge  by  his  face. 
He  is  pleasant-looking,  but  not  intellectual." 

"  Ah  !"  said  Waring.  "  Did  you  have  much  conversa 
tion  with  him  ?" 

"  Yery  little,"  replied  De  Vane.  "  He  is  gentlemanlike 
and  agreeable ;  but  his  aspect  does  not  disclose  the  reg 
nant  mind." 

"  We  must  call  on  him,"  said  Waring.  "  It  is  due  to 
Miss  Godolphin,  that  every  mark  of  respect  should  be  paid 
to  her  relative." 

"  Certainly,"  said  De  Vane.     "Let  us  go'now." 

Calling  at  the  hotel,  they  were  informed  that  Mr.  Go- 
dolphin  had  not  yet  returned  from  his  walk  ;  and  leaving 
their  cards,  the  gentlemen  returned  to  Mrs.  Bowen's. 

When  Tearing  and  De  Vane  entered  the  drawing-room 
of  Mr.  Clarendon  the  next  day,  they  found  quite  a  large 
party  of  gentlemen  already  assembled ;  at  least,  it  was 
large  for  a  dinner  at  a  private  house,  where  the  number 
should  not  exceed  twelve  or  fifteen,  if  it  is  to  be  genial, 
and  not  strictly  ceremonious  and  stately.  The  two  Chan 
cellors  were  there,  and  several  of  the  eminent  members  of 
the  Legislature — Mr.  Le  Grande  one  of  them ;  Dr.  Hume, 
Professor  Niles,  and  Professor  Waring,  representing  the 
College.  Mr.  Godolphin  had  not  arrived,  but  came  not  a 
great  while  after,  and  the  gentlemen  present  were  for 
mally  presented  to  him  by  Mr.  Clarendon. 

Mrs.  Clarendon  did  not  make  her  appearance  at  the 
table,  and  Mr.  Clarendon  seated  Mr.  Godolphin  on  his 
right,  with  Mr.  Le  Grande  for  his  vis-a-vis,  placing  War 
ing  on  the  right  of  that  gentleman,  and  De  Vane  on  the 


.DE  VANE.  465 

other  side  of  him  ;  so  that  the  group  were  able  to  inter 
change  conversation  with  each  other  with  ease. 

On  the  left  of  Mr.  Clarendon  sat  Chancellor  De  Lolrae, 
whose  elegant  manners  and  fine  conversational  powers, 
imparted  a  great  charm  to  the  party.  Mr.  Godolphin, 
accustomed  as  he  was  to  meet  cultivated,  refined,  and  em 
inent  persons,  soon  felt  that  he  was  in  the  presence  of  men 
of  no  common  order ;  and  as  the  conversation  became  free 
and  general,  he  could  scarcely  forbear  to  express  his  sur 
prise  and  gratification ;  but  while  his  own  good  breeding 
restrained  any  remark  of  the  kind,  he  exhibited  in  his 
whole  manner  his  appreciation  of  the  gentlemen  who  sur 
rounded  him.  He  excelled  in  conversation,  and  was  very 
entertaining,  because  thoroughly  informed  as  to  the  prog 
ress  of  events  in  the  actual  world.  As  to  books,  he  did 
not  seem  disposed  to  speak  of  them  ;  so  that  when,  by 
some  remark  of  Mr.  Le  Grande,  addressed  to  Waring,  the 
subject  of  ethical  philosophy,  as  it  was  treated  on  the 
Continent,  in  contrast  with  the  opinions  held  in  England 
and  Scotland,  came  up,  he  took  no  part  in  it,  but  listened 
with  marked  attention  to  the  learned  and  brilliant  dis 
course  of  those  gentlemen.  De  Yane's  wish  was  fully 
gratified,  for  Waring  was  thoroughly  roused  by  Mr.  Le 
Grande,  and  he  unconsciously  displayed  those  rare  treas 
ures  of  intellect  and  learning,  which  his  friends  well  knew 
him  to  possess,  but  which  he  usually  disclosed  only  in 
genial  conversation  with  them,  or  from  his  Professor's 
chair.  For  some  time  the  whole  party  were  attracted  by 
the  conversation  of  the  two  gentlemen  ;  and  as  it  ad 
vanced,  the  fascination  became  so  complete,  that  it  was 
with  reluctance  the  guests  rose  from  the  table,  after  a  sit 
ting  so  unusually  long,  that  they  found  the  hour  was  quite 
late  when  they  returned  to  the  drawing-room  to  take  their 
coffee. 

20* 


466  DE   VANE. 

Even  Dr.  Hume  expressed  his  gratification,  and  coming 
to  where  Mr.  Le  Grande  was  standing,  he  said  : 

"  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you,  sir,  for  all  that  you 
have  said ;  and  I  hope  at  some  time  to  hear  the  discussion 
renewed  between  yourself  and  Professor  Waring  ;  you  both 
maintain  your  opinions  well." 

"  You  are  very  good,"  said  Mr.  Le  Grande.  "  I  think 
the  College  has  great  reason  to  be  proud  of  the  young 
Professor." 

"  So  we  are,  sir,"  said  Dr.  Hume.  "  He  is  skilled  in 
dialectics." 

All  who  heard  the  remark  smiled. 

De  Yane  entered  into  conversation  with  Godolphin,  and 
inquired  if  it  was  his  purpose  to  make  an  extended  tour 
through  the  United  States. 

"  I  think  not,"  he  replied.  "  I  should  be  pleased  to  visit 
your  great  West ;  but  I  have  been  so  long  absent  from 
England,  that-  I  shall  return  early  in  the  spring.  I  wish 
in  the  mean  while  to  pass  some  time  in  Washington,  where 
some  of  my  countrymen  are  sojourning." 

"  I  should  be  pleased  to  show  you  any  thing  here  which 
may  interest  you  during  your  stay,"  said  De  Vane. 

"  You  are  very  good,"  replied  Mr.  Godolphin.  "  I  am 
charmed  with  the  plaee.  It  quite  surpasses  my  expecta 
tions,  though  it  had  been  described  to  me  in  glowing  terms 
by  friends  who  reside  here." 

Waring  came  forward,  and  said  :  "  We  shall  be  happy 
to  see  you,  Mr.  Godolphin,  at  the  College,  during  your  stay 
here.  We  have  a  library  which  may  interest  you ;  for, 
while  it  is  not  very  extensive,  it  is  well  selected. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  replied.  "  It  will,  I'm  sure,  afford  me 
great  pleasure  to  visit  the  College.  You  must  allow  me 
to  say  that  it  is  well  represented  here  to-day." 

Waring  bowed. 

The  next  morning,  cards  of  invitation  came,  both  to 


DE   VANE.  4-67 

Waring  and  to  De  Vane,  from.  Chancellor  De  Lolme,  in 
viting  them  to  dinner  on  the  following  day.  It  was  the 
first  time  that  Waring  had  been  honored  with  an  invitation 
to  that  house,  and  De  Vane  was  delighted ;  for  it  was  a 
tribute  to  him,  as  a  man,  from  a  very  exclusive  and  aris 
tocratic  quarter,  and  it  was  the  most  satisfactory  proof 
of  the  decided  impression  which  his  conversation  on  the 
previous  day  had  made  on  the  brilliant  circle  assembled  at 
Mr.  Clarendon's  table.  De  Vane  felt  that  Waring's  social 
position  was  now  perfectly  well  settled,  and  that  from  this 
time  forth  all  the  consideration  would  be  extended  to  him 
which  his  preeminent  abilities  and  noble  qualities  so  richly 
merited.  ^ 

Eager  to  learn  what  Miss  Godolphin's  impressions  were, 
since  the  return  of  her  cousin,  De  Vane  walked  to  Lea- 
sowes  about  twelve  o'clock,  when  he  knew  he  should  find 
Esther  released  from  her  morning's  engagement  with  her 
little  charge.  Entering  the  gate,  he  was  advancing  upon 
one  of  the  winding  walks  leading  to  the  house,  when  he 
saw  both  Miss  Godolphin  and  Esther  engaged  in  earnest 
conversation,  walking  in  one  of  the  paths  which  conducted 
to  the  gate  by  a  still  wider  circuit.  They  had  not  seen 
him,  and  hurriedly  retracing  his  steps,  he  emerged  from 
the  grounds,  and  passed  on  to  the  town.  He  congratulated 
himself  at  not  having  met  Miss  Godolphin  under  circum 
stances  so  embarrassing,  and  he  was  now  confident  that  he 
should  be  able  to  learn  from  Esther  what  he  so  much  de 
sired  to  know  ;  for  his  interest  in  Waring  was  too  deep  to 
suffer  him  to  wait  inactively  while  the  crisis  of  his  fate 
developed  itself.  He  resolved  to  call  on  Esther  in  the 
evening,  and  after  a  full  conversation  with  her,  to  contri 
bute  what  he  might  to  protect  his  friend  from  any  unne 
cessary  pain,  or,  if  possible,  to  advance  his  hopes. 

In  the  evening,  he  called  at  Mr.  Springfield's,  and  asked 
for  Miss  Wordsworth.  He  was  shown  into  the  drawing:- 


468  D 

room,  and  after  some  little  time  Esther  entered.  She  was 
radiant,  and  De  Vane  felt  that  she  had  good  tidings  for 
him.  He  rose  to  meet  her,  and  she  welcomed  him  with  her 
brightest  smile. 

"  If  I  should  ask  you,  Esther,  in  the  beautiful  language 
of  the  Scriptures,  '  What  of  the  night  ?'  what  would  be 
your  reply  ?" 

"  I  should  answer,"  she  said,  "  in  the  same  language : 
'  The  morning  cometh,  and  also  the  night.' " 

"  I  must  beg  you  to  interpret  for  me,"  said  De  Vane ; 
"  for  I  really  do  not  comprehend  the  language,  couched  as 
it  is  in  such  a  figure.  Do  you  mean  that  Waring's  sky  is 
to  b&  visited  with  the  morning  light,  after  such  a  weary 
night  of  doubt  and  watching,  and  that  then  a  still  darker 
and  longer  night  is  to  close  in  upon  it  ?" 

"  Ah  !  Mr.  De  Vane,"  said  Esther  playfully,  "  you  must 
study  the  Scriptures.  You  appealed  to  me  by  quoting  the 
language  of  the  sublime  prophet,  and  I  could  do  no  less 
than  answer  in  his  own  words." 

"  But  really,"  said  De  Vane,  "  I  am  compelled  to  confess 
that  I  do  not  understand  the  beautiful  but  mysterious  lan 
guage  of  the  prophet.  "Will  you  not  condescend  to  en 
lighten  me  ?" 

"  Upon  the  hope  that  I  indulge,  that  you  will  look  more 
diligently  into  the  inspired  volume,  whose  authority  you 
seemed  to  invoke  by  appealing  to  it,  I  will  give  you  the 
interpretation  which  is,  I  believe,  generally  accepted.  It 
is  understood  that  two  captive  nations  appealed  to  the 
prophet,  as  a  watchman,  for  some  sign  of  hope,  some  ap 
pearance  of  coming  deliverance  ;  and  he  replied  to  their 
question, '  Watchman,  what  of  the  night  ?'  in  these  words, 
'  The  morning  cometh,  and  also  the  night ;'  meaning  that 
morning  was  about  to  dawn  upon  the  one  people,  and  a 
protracted  night  to  settle  down  upon  the  other :  the  one 


DE   VAN'E  4:69 

nation  was  presently  to  be  delivered,  while  the  other  was 
to  undergo  a  long  captivity." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  De  Vane.  "  I  am,  then,  to  understand 
that  morning  is  about  to  dawn  upon  our  friend,  and  that 
the  other  is  still  to  endure  the  darkness  which  has  so  long 
covered  his  sky  ?" 

"  Such  is  my  interpretation  of  the  signs,"  said  Esther. 
"  Of  one  thing  I  am  quite  sure,  there  has  been  no  change 
in  the  sentiments  of  Miss  Godolphin,  so  far  as  her  cousin 
is  concerned.  That  I  am  at  liberty  to  say  to  you.  As  to 
the  hopes  of  our -friend,  I,  of  course,  can  not  speak  ;  for  not 
a  word  has  ever  been  uttered  in  regard  to  him  that  would 
authorize  me  to  form  any  opinion.  I  had  this  morning  a 
conversation  with  Hortensia.  She  came  to  me  at  Leasowes, 
and  communicated  every  thing.  Mr.  Godolphin  renewed 
the  offer  of  his  hand,  and  she  decidedly  declined  it.  He 
assured  her  of  his  unchanging  love,  and  urged  her  to  with 
hold  her  final  decision  until  his  return  to  England,  and 
then  to  write  him.  She  explained  to  him  every  thing — her 
wretchedness  at  the  thought  of  his  having  fallen  in  battle, 
her  joy  at  the  tidings  of  his  return  to  England,  her  deep 
sense  of  his  constancy,  and  her  sincere  friendship  ;  but  she 
assured  him  it  was  impossible  that  she  could  ever  regard 
him  in  any  other  light  than  that  of  an  honored  friend  and 
relative  ;  and  she  implored  him  to  conquer  a  passion  which 
she  insisted  was  only  a  fancy,  which  a  year's  residence  in 
society  such  as  he  would  meet  in  London,  would  easily 
overcome.  He  prevailed  on  her  to  give  him  the  opportun 
ity  of  proving  his  constancy  by  awaiting  his  return  home, 
that  he  might  assure  her,  from  the  very  midst  of  the  most 
brilliant  circle  of  his  own  country,  that  he  could  love  no 
woman  but  herself.  And  so  the  affair  rests." 

"  I  pity  him  from  the  very  depths  of  my  heart,"  said 
De  Vane.  "  He  is  a  noble  fellow,  and  such  constancy  I 
have  rarely  known.  It  is  wonderful.  He  had  known  his 


470  DE   VANE. 

cousin  but  a  short  time  in  Europe ;  he  was  very  young 
when  he  saw  her — indeed,  is  still  young ;  and  yet  now, 
after  years  of  absence  and  suffering  have  tried  his  love, 
it  is  as  ardent  as  at  first." 

Esther  was  touched  by  this  generous  tribute  to  one  who 
was  striving  to  bear  away  from  them  one  so  loved  and 
prized  as  Miss  Godolphin,  and  whose  success  would  shed 
disastrous  eclipse  over  the  life  of  one  so  dear  to  him  who 
uttered  it,  as  she  knew  Waring  to  be — dear  as  an  elder 
brother,  upon  whom  no  shadow  could  fall  without  cloud 
ing  his  own  happiness. 

"Do  you  know,  Miss  Wordsworth,"  said  De  Vane, 
rising,  and  speaking  in  a  stately  way,  "  that  I  committed 
a  trespass  this  morning,  for  which  I  have  yet  to  ask  your 
pardon  ?" 

"  A  trespass  !"  exclaimed  Esther.  "  I  am  not  conscious 
of  it." 

"  Still  I  must  sue  for  pardon,"  said  De  Vane.  "  At  an 
hour  when  you  were  in  the  full  possession  of  your  prero 
gative  as  mistress  of  Leasowes,  and  before  you  had  emerged 
from  the  sanctity  which  invests  you  there,  and  repels  in 
truders,  except  on  holidays,  I  actually  entered  your  do 
main,  and  was  advancing  upon  your  seat  of  empire,  when 
I  saw  you  walking  with  a  fair  lady ;  and  conscious  of  the 
intrusion,  I  retraced  my  steps  without  making  myself 
known  to  you." 

"  Were  you  at  Leasowes  this,  morning  ?"  Esther  asked 
eagerly. 

"  I  must  confess  it,"  said  De  Vane ;  "  and  seeing  Miss 
Godolphin  in  conversation  with  you,  I  withdrew." 

She  laughed,  and  said  :  "  It  was  very  well  that  you  did 
not  join  us,  for  at  that  moment  Hortensia  was  speaking 
to  me  with  great  earnestness,  and  your  presence  would 
have  distressed  her." 

"  So  I  conjectured,"  said  De  Vane  ;  "  and  like  an  illus- 


DE  VANE.  471 

trio  us  personage  whom  Milton  describes,  I  fled  from  the 
sight  of  happiness  which  I  was  not  to  share." 

Esther  laughed  heartily,  and  De  Yane  took  leave  with 
a  heart  full  of  joy,  and  love,  and  hope. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

"  WHY  in  this  furnace  is  my  spirit  proved 
Like  steel  in  tempering  fire  ?    Because  I  loved  ! 
Because  I  loved  what  not  to  love,  and  see, 
Was  more  or  less  than  mortal,  and  than  me." 

THE  LAMENT  OF  TASSO. 

IT  is  a  beautiful  compensation  in  human  life,  that  when 
we  feel  and  toil  for  others,  the  pressure  of  our  own  sor 
rows  is  lighter ;  the  soul  receives  strength  from  sympa 
thy,  and  by  a  beneficent  law  of  humanity,  we  grow  strong 
as  we  strive  to  do  good. 

De  Vane's  solicitude  for  Waring  was  so  great,  that  he 
almost  forgot  his  own  troubles ;  and  he  awaited  calmly, 
for  a  time,  a  reply  to  letters  which  he  had  recently  writ 
ten,  both  to  Mrs.  De  Vane  and  to  General  De  Vane,  ex 
pressing  in  earnest  terms  his  love  for  Miss  Wordsworth, 
and  his  resolution  to  be  loyal  to  his  own  heart,  no  matter 
what  opposition  he  might  encounter.  He  described  her 
to  his  father  in  manly  but  glowing  terms,  and  he  expressed 
his  perfect  indifference  to  any  advantages  which  he  might 
acquire  by  a  marriage  such  as  General  De  Vane  projected 
for  him.  Nor  could  he  restrain  the  utterance  of  his  pro 
found  indignation  against  those  rules  of  conventional  life, 
which  would  exclude  a  person,  however  cultivated,  refined, 
pure,  and  lovely  she  might  be,  from  the  circles  which  they 
governed.  In  the  mean  while,  he  saw  Esther  constantly, 
and  their  intercourse  yielded  the  purest  enjoyment.  Books, 
conversation,  music,  excursions  to  the  neighboring  coun- 

(472) 


DE  VANE.  473 

try,  wherever  objects  of  interest  attracted  them,  and  a 
thorough  cooperation  in  doing  good  to  those  who  needed 
their  kindly  offices — all  gave  a  charm  to  the  flying  clays. 
Their  relations  had  undergone  no  change  since  the  expla 
nation  which  took  place  at  the  little  fountain  in  the 
grounds  of  Leasowes.  Esther  was  firm,  and  De  Vane 
never  for  a  moment  swerved  from  his  attachment  or  his 
purpose.  They  saw  much  of  society,  and  Esther  was 
greatly  admired.  Mr.  Le  Grande  was  marked  in  his  at 
tentions  to  her,  expressing  without  reserve  his  apprecia 
tion  of  her  beauty,  her  intellect,  and  her  character ;  and 
others,  still  younger,  and  more  disposed  to  possess  what 
they  so  extravagantly  admired,  pressed  their  attentions 
upon  her.  But,  with  a  gentle  dignity,  she  kept  within  a 
charmed  circle,  which  she  did  not  suffer  any  one  to  over 
step.  Her  bearing  was  such  as  to  repress  the  language  of 
passion,  and  without  giving  offense,  she,  in  every  instance, 
prevented  an  actual  appeal  to  her  decision,  by  making  it 
plain  that  a  declaration  of  love  would  be  unacceptable. 

Mr.  Clarendon  said  to  her  one  evening  : 

"  Miss  "Wordsworth,  with  your  glorious  beauty,  and  all 
your  attractions,  you  are  like  the  sibyl  repelling  Apollo 
himself,  who  pressed  her  with  all  the  ardor  of  the  god ; 
and  you  still  exclaim  to  the  great  throng  of  your  ad 
mirers  :  '  0  profani,  procul,  procul  este  /' ': 

De  Vane,  who  was  standing  near,  smiled  as  he  saw  Es 
ther's  eyes  turn  quickly  toward  him,  but  he  said  nothing. 

The  dinner  at  Chancellor  De  Lolme's  brought  together 
mainly  the  same  guests  who  met  at  Mr.  Clarendon's  ta 
ble,  and  it  was  an  "entertainment  of  marked  elegance. 
The  conversation  turned  on  politics,  and  De  Vane  was 
drawn  out  by  Mr.  Clarendon  in  a  way  to  make  him  the 
observed  of  some  two  or  three  gentlemen  of  distinction, 
whom  he  met  for  the  first  time.  Waring  and  Mr.  Le 
Grande  did  not  renew  their  discussion,  but  Chancellor  De 


474:  DE  VANE. 

Lolme  paid  marked  attention  to  the  young  Professor,  and 
conversed  with  him  for  some  time  on  a  subject  which 
deeply  interested  them  both — the  relations  between  eth 
ical  and  political  philosophy.  From  that  time  Waring 
became  a  frequent  guest  at  the  Chancellor's  elegant  and 
hospitable  house. 

Some  days  after,  cards  were  issued  for  an  evening  party 
at  Mrs.  Habersham's,  and  it  proved  to  be  unusually  bril 
liant.  Eminent  men  from  all  parts  of  the  State  were  pres 
ent,  and  the  families  of  several  from  the  sea-board  accom 
panied  them.  The  handsome  house,  with  its  elegant  fur 
niture,  afforded  ample  room  and  abounding  means  for 
such  an  entertainment.  Natural  flowers  shed  a  perfume 
through  the  spacious  saloons  ;  and  statuary  and  paintings 
imparted  that  indescribable  grace  which  nothing  can  sup 
ply  in  their  absence.  There  was  no  dancing.  There  never 
was  at  Mrs.  Habersham's.  Her  own  taste  and  that  of  Miss 
Godolphin's  agreed  in  excluding  it.  But  musical  instru 
ments  of  the  rarest  and  most  costly  kind  were  placed  in 
the  drawing-room  this  evening,  the  harp  alone  occupying 
its  accustomed  place  in  the  octagonal  green  room.  One 
or  two  eminent  professors  of  music  were  present,  whose 
skill  was  so  well  known,  that  their  performance  alone 
would  have  attracted  numbers  to  hear  them.  Esther  was 
standing  near  the  door,  opening  into  the  octagonal  room, 
in  conversation  with  Mr.  Le  Grande,  when  Mr.  Clarendon 
advanced,  Mr.  Godolphin  leaning  on  his  arm,  and  said: 

"I  wish,  Miss  Wordsworth,  to  present  Mr.  Godolphin." 

Mr.  Godolphin  bowed  low,  and  said : 

"  I  have  for  some  time  desired  the  honor  of  meeting  you. 
You  are  not  unknown  to  me,  Miss  Wordsworth." 

Esther  bowed,  and  a  conversation  followed,  in  which 
she  took  part,  with  Mr.  Godolphin,  Mr.  Le  Grande,  and 
Mr.  Clarendon.  Various  topics  were  introduced,  among 
others  the  costume  of  the  people  of  Europe,  as  compared 


DE  VANE.  475 

with  that  of  Oriental  nations,  and  this  led  to  some  re 
marks  as  to  the  effect  of  civilization  upon  the  fine  arts. 
At  that  moment,  Miss  Godolphin  came  up  to  the  group, 
and  invited  Esther  to  give  them  at  least />ne  song,  saying, 
that  it  was  the  wish  of  those  present,  many  of  whom  had 
never  heard  her,  to  have  that  gratification  afforded  them 
this  evening.  Mr.  Godolphin  offered  his  arm,  and  con 
ducted- her  to  the  piano,  at  which  she  seated  herself  with 
apparent  composure,  but  really  under  the  influence  of 
great  embarrassment.  The  presence  of  so  large  a  company, 
some  of  them  total  strangers  to  her,  and  the  fact  that  the 
entertainment  was  intended  to  owe  its  chief  interest  to 
the  music  of  the  evening,  awakened  natural  apprehension 
in  one  so  full  of  sensibility.  With  perfect  grace,  she 
touched  the  keys  of  the  instrument,  playing  first  a  wild 
exuberant  piece,  perfectly  new  to  almost  every  one,  and 
in  which  the  music  seemed  to  exert  its  full  power  in  ut 
tering  the  voice  not  of  mirth,  but  of  deep  and  earnest, 
gladness  ;  now  rapid,  and  again  slow  and  tender,  with  a 
joyous  outburst  finally,  which  was  so  exultant  that  it 
moved  many  to  tears,  from  pure  sympathy  with  its  almost 
human  passionateness. 

The  room  rang  with  applause,  and  Mr.  Godolphin,  bend 
ing  low,  thanked  her  in  the  warmest  terms. 

"  And  now,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  we  must  have  the 
song  ?" 

"What  shall  it  be?"  asked  Esther. 

"  We  leave  the  selection  to  yourself,"  she  replied  ;  "but, 
if  perfectly  agreeable  to  you,  I  should  wish  you  to  sing 
Judith.' 

This  was  a  new  piece,  almost  unknown  as  yet  in  this 
country,  describing  Judith's  solemn  consecration  of  herself 
to  the  perilous  task  of  delivering  her  country  from  the  As 
syrian  hosts  that  stretched  their  beleaguering  lines  around 
the  city  where  she  dwelt,  who  trusted  in  shield  and  spear, 


476  DE   VAXE. 

and  bow  and  sling,  and  knew  not  the  Lord  that  breaketh 
the  battles,  in  which  she  prays  that  their  stateliness  may 
be  broken  down  by  the  hand  of  a  woman.  It  was  a  piece 
of  wonderful  povwer,  music  and  language  conspiring  to 
produce  the  greatest  effect ;  and  it  was  a  piece  of  con 
siderable  length.  Esther  took  the  fresh  sheets  of  music 
lying  near,  and  placed  them  before  her.  Her  style  of  dress 
was  in  harmony  with  the  piece  which  she  was  about  to 
play,  for  it  was  unusually  rich  this  evening.  Her  golden 
hair  was  intertwined  with  pearls,  and  her  faultless  neck 
was  encircled  with  a  necklace,  of  exquisite  workmanship, 
of  the  same  precious  material,  from  which  hung  a  cross, 
formed  of  the  largest  and  purest  pearls,  of  very  great 
value — an  ornament  which  had  been  her  mother's,  and 
which  she  rarely  wore.  Her  robe  was  white  silk,  trimmed 
heavily  with  the  finest  lace. 

She  was  roused  by  her  own  music,  as  she  advanced  in 
the  piece,  and  her  voice  gave  out  all  its  power  as  she  ut 
tered  the  sentiments,  so  heroic,  so  devoted,  and  so  sublime, 
that  the  whole  scene  of  the  beleaguered  city,  and  the  sur 
rounding  heights  covered  with  the  tents  and  streaming 
with  the  defiant  banners  of  the  haughty  Assyrians,  came 
up  to  view,  while  the  soaring  spirit  of  the  glorious  woman 
preparing  to  go  forth  to  spoil  the  pride  of  the  fierce  leader 
of  the  mighty  host,  broke  forth  in  tones  so  grand,  and  of 
such  imperial  triumph,  that  all  who  heard  them  felt  as  if 
they  stood  in  the  presence  of  some  being  already  inspired 
with  authentic  power,  to  proclaim  the  deliverance  of  her 
country,  and  the  utter  rout  and  destruction  of  her  enemies. 
As  the  closing  notes  died  away,  and  Esther's  hands  fell 
from  the  instrument  gently,  the  enthusiasm  of  the  com 
pany  was  such,  that  it  did  not  seek  to  restrain  itself,  but 
everywhere  exclamations  of  rapture  were  heard,  which 
betrayed  the  power  that  the  wonderful  music  which  had 
just  ceased,  had  swayed  over  their  souls. 


DE  VANE.  477 

Esther  rose  from  her  seat,  and  again  Mr.  Godolphin, 
offering  his  arm,  conducted  her  to  a  seat.  Mr.  Clarendon 
and  Waring  came  directly  to  her,  and  tendered  their 
thanks,  and  a  moment  after  De  Yane  joined  them. 

"  It  occurs  to  me,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  that  in  a  con 
versation  in  which  some  of  us  took  part,  some  months 
since,  when  the  comparative  power  of  the  fine  arts,  and  of 
language  in  expression,  was  discussed,  we  overlooked 
music ;  and  really  I  am  not  prepared  to  say,  after  what  I 
have  just  heard,  that  it  does  not  transcend  every  thing,  in 
the  utterance  of  the  higher  emotions  of  our  nature,  and  in 
swaying  the  soul." 

u  Ah  !  but  you  must  consider,"  said  De  Yane,  "  that  we 
have  just  now  heard  music  associated  with  language,  and 
it  goes  far  toward  confirming  my  theory,  which  claims  the 
ascendency  of  human  speech  over  the  fine  arts  in  the 
power  of  expression,  to  observe  the  effect  produced  by  the 
piece  of  music  to  which  we  have  just  listened ;  for  what 
is  music,  after  all,  but  speech  in  its  passionate  tones  ?" 

"  Very  cleverly  stated,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon.  "  But  you 
claim  rather  more  than  I  can  concede,  when  you  class 
music  with  language.  The  truth  is,  music  is  one  of  the 
fine  arts." 

"  Quite  true,"  said  Waring  ;  "  and  even  when  we  listen 
to  music  unaccompanied  by  language,  we  are  often  pro 
foundly  moved  by  it ;  as  in  the  Miserere,  for  instance,  when 
the  human  voice  can  not  be  distinguished,  and  t-he  tones 
float  upon  the  air,  the  effect  is  described  as  very  great." 

"  So  it  is,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  for  I  have  heard  it 
just  as  you  describe  it ;  and  it  was  wonderful  how  one 
felt  it." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  I  perfectly  well  recall  it." 

At  this  moment  Miss  Godolphin  came  up,  leaning  on 
Mr.  Le  Grande's  arm. 

"  We   are  reopening  our  discussion,  Miss  Godolphin," 


478  I)E   VANE. 

said  De  Vane,  "  as  to  the  comparative  power  of  language 
and  of  the  fine  arts  to  affect  us,  and  Mr.  Clarendon  has 
appealed  to  the  impression  made  by  music  as  an  art.  Now 
is  that  allowable  ?" 

"  Why  not  ?"  she  said. 

"  Because,"  replied  De  Vane,  "  it  consists  of  sounds,  and 
language  is  made  up  of  sounds,  so  that  music  is  kindred 
to  it." 

"  Ah  !  Mr.  De  Vane,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  you  re 
member  that  the  controversy,  as  it  stood  before,  was  not  as 
to  the  power  of  uttered  language  to  move  us,  but  as  to 
the  capability  of  its  descriptions — its  capability  of  bring 
ing  to  view  scenes  and  ideas  which,  when  realized,  would 
affect  us.  And  it  seems  to  me  that  you  vary  the  ground 
of  our  discussion  when  you  add  vocal  sounds,  which  ap 
peal  to  us  in  quite  a  different  way." 

"  Very  fairly  done,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon.  "  Do  you  not 
think  so,  Le  Grande  ?" 

"  I  must  be  allowed  to  say,  while  I  admire  the  skill  and 
dialectic  power  of  Miss  Godolphin's  remark,"  said  Mr.  Le 
Grande,  "  that  in  testing  the  power  of  language  in  its  rela 
tions  to  thought  and  emotion,  it  is  quite  proper  to  take 
into  the  estimate  the  highest  forms  which  it  wears.  Elo 
quence,  for  instance,  is  not  dependent  only  upon  a  colloca 
tion  of  words,  but  the  tones  of  the  human  voice  must  enter 
largely  into  it.  And  if  this  be  true,  music  partakes  in 
some  sort  of  the  nature  of  speech." 

"  Still,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  that  varies  the  original 
inquiry,  started  some  time  since,  as  to  the  capability  of 
statuary  or  painting  to  move  us,  and  of  the  comparative 
power  of  verbal  description  to  do  so,  when  representing  the 
same  object.  And  I  remember  that  one  of  the  illustrations 
offered  was  the  Dying  Gladiator — the  work  of  art  appeal 
ing  to  us  by  its  mute  suggestions — and  Lord  Byron's  de 
scriptive  lines,  in  which  he  introduces  the  rude  hut  on  the 


DE  VANE.  479 

Danube,  the  boys  at  play,  and  the  unconscious  Dacian 
mother.  Now,  vocal  utterances  are  not  to  be  taken  into 
the  account  in  such  an  inquiry.  Is  it  not  so,  Miss  Words 
worth,  for  I  believe  you  sat  arbitress  then  ?" 

Esther  smiled,  and  said :  "  I  think  you  are  right,  Mr. 
Clarendon." 

"  The  truth  is,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  laying  his  hand  on 
De  Yane's  shoulder,  "this  young  gentleman,  seeing  the 
complete  ascendency  of  music  established  this  evening, 
wishes  to  press  it  into  the  support  of  his  theory ;  and  I 
confess  the  same  anxiety  to  rank  it  as  one  of  the  fine  arts." 

All  laughed. 

"  The  power  of  music  to  affect  us,"  said  Mr.  Le  Grande, 
"  is  nothing  less  than  wonderful.  The  ancients  have  at 
tested  it  in  the  fable  of  Orpheus  moving  beasts  and  woods, 
and  all  nations  employ  martial  music  to  animate  their  sol 
diers  in  preparing  for  battle." 

"  There  is  a  remarkable  instance  of  the  power  of  music 
over  human  passion,"  said  Waring,  "  in  the  case  of  King 
Saul,  whose  wild  and  stormy  soul  could  only  be  soothed 
by  the  harp  of  David,  who,  while  yet  young,  swept  the 
chords  of  that  instrument  in  the  presence  of  the  monarch 
who  at  the  same  time  hated  and  dreaded  him,  and  yet  was 
swayed  by  the  notes  that  he  produced." 

"  It  is  a  most  felicitous  illustration,"  said  Mr.  Le  Grande. 

"  I  confess  my  own  susceptibility  to  the  influence  of 
music,"  said  De  Vane.  "  It  subdues  or  rouses  me  as  noth 
ing  else  can.  Its  descriptive  power,  too,  is  almost  unlimit 
ed.  In  that  very  piece  which  we  all  heard  with  so  much 
emotion  just  now,  it  was  easy  to  trace  the  varying  senti 
ment  in  the  notes,  as  they  rose,  or  sank,  or  wailed,  or  de 
nounced,  or  triumphed,  without  observing  the  words  in 
which  the  sentiment  was  expressed.  I  do  not  wonder  at 
the  effect  produced  by  the  Marseillaise.  I  never  hear  its 
notes,  even  upon  a  feeble  instrument,  without  instantly 


480  DE  VANE. 

calling  before  me  Paris — its  streets  filled  with  armed  men, 
torches  borne  by  women,  who  join  the  chorus  of  the  wild 
song  as  the  deeper  voices  of  the  maddened  populace  shout 
it  out,  and  the  frantic  drums  rattle  it  forth  to  animate  the 
tread  of  the  fierce  band,  a  band  in  which  both  sexes  mingle 
and  all  ages  are  seen,  from  the  boy  of  twelve  to  the  gray- 
haired  octogenarian.  That  hymn  would  bring  an  empire 
toppling  down." 

De  Yane  had  unconsciously,  in  his  animation,  uttered 
this  with  amazing  power,  and  his  language,  attitude,  and 
gesture  were  all  so  striking,  that  the  group  about  him  re 
garded  him  with  unconcealed  admiration.  Mr.  Le  Grande 
fixed  his  eyes  upon  him,  and  said  : 

"  Mr.  De  Vane  has  just  given  us  a  great  argument  in 
support  of  his  theory — the  transcendent  power  of  lan 
guage  to  represent  scenes  which  are  not  before  us." 

His  face  flushed  with  pleasure,  and  he  bowed.  Esther's 
face  beamed  as  brightly  as  his  own. 

"  It  is  to  be  observed,  too,  I  think,  Mr.  Godolphin," 
said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  that  the  national  anthem  of  England 
breathes  the  majestic  breadth  and  strength  of  her  imperial 
sway.  One  who  hears  it  can  imagine  the  circling  hours 
of  the  day  never  ceasing  to  light  the  wide  extent  of  her 
realm." 

"  I'm  very  much  obliged  to  you,  I'm  sure,"  said  Mr. 
Godolphin.  "  We  are  loyal  people,  and  we  love  our  na 
tional  anthem." 

"  We  have  none,"  said  Mr.  Le  Grande. 

"  Will  not  Miss  Godolphin  give  us  some  music  now  ?" 
said  Waring.  "  I  am  sure  that  we  shall  all  be  happy  to 
hear  her." 

"  You  should  excuse  me  this  evening,  I  think,"  she  re 
plied.  "  Do  you  not  say  so,  Mr.  Clarendon  ?" 

"  My  dear  lady,"  said  he,  "  you  should  not  appeal  to  me, 


DE  VANE.  481 

when  the  question  respects  your  "being  excused  from  sing 
ing.  I  am  incapable  of  impartial  justice  in  that  matter." 

Waring  gave  her  his  arm,  and  conducted  her  to  the 
octagonal  room,  as  a  wish  was  expressed  to  hear  her  per 
formance  on  the  harp ;  and  she  seated  herself  by  the  instru 
ment,  and  threw  her  fingers  over  its  chords  so  as  to  produce 
instantly  low,  sweet  tones,  as  if  its  spirit,  sleeping  before, 
became  conscious  now  of  the  hand  of  an  enchantress  which 
woke  it  to  life  and  tenderness.  Gentle,  almost  wailing 
notes  breathed  forth,  imtil,  rising  into  higher  tones,  the 
music  swelled  into  louder  and  grander  circles,  which  filled 
the  hearers  with  delight.  It  was  as  if  the  early  morning 
of  spring,  dewy,  and  cheered  by  the  song  of  a  single  bird, 
expanded  into  light  and  glory,  until  it  became  vocal  with 
the  glad  caroling  of  a  forest  of  songsters. 

It  was  the  remark  everywhere  throughout  the  thronged 
and  rapt  audience,  that  it  was  not  conceivable  such  music 
could  be  produced  from  the  harp,  and  the  professors  who 
stood  near  her  could  not  repress  their  surprise  at  such  a 
triumph  in  one  of  the  most  difficult  instruments  belonging 
to  their  art — an  instrument  upon  which  many  perform,  and 
over  which  they  acquire  some  skill,  but  which  the  fewest 
number  ever  master  so  far  as  to  make  it  yield  those  fluent 
tones  which  fill  the  soul  with  their  ravishing  melody. 

Some  one  requested  a  song,  and  she  said :  "  I  will  give 
you  one  that  is  destined,  I  think,  to  immortality.  It  is 
true  at  once  to  nature  and  to  the  heart." 

Touching  the  strings  again,  she  made  them  vocal  under 
her  fingers,  and  sang  those  lines  of  Moore,  which  breathe 
sentiments  as  pure  as  they  are  tender, 

"  "Tig  the  last  rose  of  summer;" 

and  the  depth,  and  richness,  and  passionateness  of  her 
voice  entered  every  soul.     Tears  flowed  freely  while  she 
21 


482  DE  VANE. 

sang ;  and  as  the  dying  cadence  of  her  tones  was  mingled 
with  the  exquisite  sweetness  of  the  air,  which  seemed  to 
linger  over  the  chords  like  the  breath  of  an  angel,  the 
large  drops  rolled  down  the  cheeks  of  Mr.  Clarendon,  at 
testing  the  power  of  her  music  over  his  noble,  grand,  and 
yet  gentle  nature.  When  she  had  withdrawn  her  hand 
from  the  instrument,  he  advanced  to  her,  took  her  hand  in 
his,  and  said : 

"  You  are  right,  dear  lady ;  that  song  can  never  die,  so 
long  as  nature  reproduces  her  flowers,  or  human  hearts 
cherish  loved  objects  on  earth." 

It  was  painful  to  De  Vane  to  observe  the  emotion  of 
Hubert  Godolphin.  He  was  very  manly,  and  yet  he  could 
hardly  restrain  the  tears  which  welled  up  into  his  eyes. 
His  agitation  was  so  great,  that  he  turned  away,  and  walked 
to  another  room,  that  he  might  conquer  it.  Miss  Godol 
phin  was  brilliantly  beautiful  this  evening.  The  shadow 
that  had  so  long  dimmed  the  lustre  of  her  extraordinary 
charms  had  passed  away,  and  she  was  as  resplendent  as  a 
tropical  morning,  when  the  glories  of  nature  are  illumined 
by  a  light  undimmed  by  mists.  Her  dress  was  in  har 
mony  with  her  rejoicing  spirit — rich,  and  adorned  with  all 
the  appliances  which  a  liberal  but  pure  taste  could  bestow 
upon  it.  She  wore  no  curls,  but  the  diamonds  flashed  in 
her  richly-braided  hair,  and  a  necklace,  precious  enough  to 
ransom  a  queen  from  captivity,  encircled  her  throat;  while 
a  dark  green  silk  robe,  trimmed  with  Brussels  lace,  dis 
played  her  form  in  all  the  stately  and  yet  graceful  ele 
gance  which  so  preeminently  distinguished  her. 

It  was  proposed  that  the  two  ladies  who  had  so  grati 
fied  the  guests  by  their  performance,  should  contribute 
their  voices  in  addition  to  the  instrumental  music  which 
the  two  eminent  professors  were  about  to  execute ;  and 
they  took  their  places  near  the  piano.  The  piece  selected 
was  from  the  '  Creation  ;'  and  one  of  the  artists  took  hia 


DE    VANE.  483 

seat  at  the  piano,  while  the  other  accompanied  him  on  the 
violin ;  and  Miss  Godolphin  and  Esther,  together  with  the 
professional  performers,  sustained  the  several  parts  of  the- 
piece.  The  effect  was  very  great ;  and  as  the  last  notes 
of  the  instrument,  under  the  vigorous  touch  of  the  Ger 
man  professor,  died  away,  an  outburst  of  applause  broke 
forth  from  the  delighted  company,  Mr.  Godolphin  and 
Mr.  Clarendon  shouting  "  Bravo !  bravo  !"  vehemently. 

"  Mehercule  /"  said  De  Vane,  turning  to  Waring.  "  Stat 
uary,  and  painting,  and  language  must  look  to  their  laurels 
if  they  compete  with  music  in  the  power  of  expression." 

Waring  laughed,  and  advancing  to  the  ladies,  thanked 
them  warmly  for  their  music. 

"  Let  us  go  to  supper,"  said  Miss  Godolphin.  "  Mr. 
Godolphin,  will  you  take  Mrs.  Habersham  to  the  table  ?" 

He  bowed,  and  advancing  to  that  lady,  offered  his  arm. 
Waring  conducted  Miss  Godolphin,  and  De  Vane  took 
Esther  to  the  table.  It  was  a  magnificent  entertainment, 
such  as  Mrs.  Habersham's  great  wealth  and  Miss  Godol- 
phin's  fine  taste  could  supply ;  and  it  was  intended  as  a 
compliment  to  one  who  had  strong  claims  upon  their  con 
sideration,  and  who  had  been  accustomed  to  the  most 
profuse  elegance  at  home. 

Not  until  a  late  hour  did  the  guests  depart,  and  every 
one  bore  away  an  impression  of  rare  splendor  and  ele 
gance — an  evening  to  be  remembered  for  its  brightness  ; 
for  the  grace  and  intellect  and  gladness  which  character 
ized  all  its  festivities. 

Some  few  days  after,  Hubert  Godolphin  took  leave  of 
his  cousin,  and  returned  to  Washington,  to  join  a  party  of 
his  friends,  who  had  come  over  with  him  to  visit  the  great 
Republic. 

Letters  came  to  De  Vane — a  very  long  one  from  his 
aunt  and  a  pretty  full  one  from  his  father.  Mrs.  De  Vane 
urged  him  to  yield  to  his  father's  wishes — to  consent  to 


484  DE  VANE. 

quit  Ms  present  residence,  at  least  for  a  time,  and  to  satisfy 
the  exactions  of  General  De  Yane,  by  proving  that  his 
love  for  Esther  was  not  the  result  of  mere  intercourse 
with  her,  but  a  true  and  vigorous  sentiment,  which  could 
survive  through  time  and  absence.  She  did  not  know  that 
General  De  Vane  had  himself  written  to  his  son,  and  she 
therefore  entered  fully  into  all  the  reasoning  by  which  the 
counsels  of  that  gentleman  were  animated. 

General  De  Vane's  letter  was  direct,  and  yet  kind.  Its 
tone  may  be  learned  from  a  passage  taken  from  it,  in  which 
he  treated  the  question  of  his  son's  wishes  in  regard  to 
Miss  Wordsworth  : 

"  I  am  not  insensible  to  the  strength  of  the  sentiment 
which  you  profess  to  feel  for  Miss  Wordsworth.  I  have 
outlived  my  youth,  but  not  my  heart ;  and  my  views  in 
regard  to  you,  while  they  may  have  been  ambitious,  have 
never  been  selfish.  While  I  ardently  desire  that  you 
should  marry  a  woman  of  your  own  class,  (I  do  not  mean 
to  depreciate  Miss  Wordsworth,  who,  I  do  not  doubt,  is  a 
very  worthy  young  person,)  I  do  not  wish  you  to  marry 
one  whom  you  could  neither  love  nor  respect.  The  fact 
that  the  young  person  to  whom  you  are  just  now  so  much 
attached  is  a  friend  and  associate  of  Miss  Godolphin,  cer 
tainly  speaks  much  in  her  favor,  and  she  could  not  have 
the  approval  of  Mr.  Clarendon  if  she  did  not  possess  con 
siderable  merit.  Still,  she  is  of  a  people  not  just  of  our 
own  class  ;  and  I  should  somewhat  fear,  that  hereafter 
your  tastes  might  be  offended  by  the  persons  who  would 
surround  her.  There  are  very  good  people  of  her  persua 
sion — the  Hamiltons,  for  instance — but  they  are  rare,  and 
there  is  always  a  certain  clinging  to  each  other,  it  seems 
to  me,  which  might  seriously  offend  you,  when,  hereafter, 
you  come  to  look  at  things  '  in  a  dry  light,'  as  my  Lord 
Bacon  says.  Still,  I  hold  that  every  man  has  the  right  to 


DE   VANE.  485 

choose  the  woman  who  is  to  walk  by  his  side  through  life ; 
and  if  you  are  content  to  subject  your  regard  for  Miss 
Wordsworth  to  a  fair  test,  I  shall  waive  all  objection  on 
my  part  to  your  marriage.  Go  to  Europe  in  the  spring, 
and  travel  there  a  year  or  two;  and  if,  when  you  return, 
your  sentiments  are  unchanged,  I  shall  then  respect  your 
wishes,  and  offer  no  obstacle  to  their  accomplishment. 

"  Mr.  Randolph  was  here  yesterday, 'on  his  way  to  Wash 
ington,  and  asked  after  you  with  interest.  He  is  in  high 
spirits,  and  says  that  he  feels  all  the  ardor  of  a  fox-hunter 
intent  upon  being  in  at  the  death.  He  means  to  see  the 
present  administration  out." 

De  Vane  read  his  father's  letter  with  mingled  emotions. 
There  was  light  in  it,  but  it  was  remote.  Time,  distance, 
the  ocean — all  these  rolled  between  him  and  Esther  by  the 
plan  submitted  to  him,  and,  in  the  ardor  of  his  nature,  it 
seemed  a  vista  as  long  as  that  through  which  Jacob  saw 
Rachel,  was  opening  before  him.  He  felt  a  profound  re 
spect  for  his  father ;  he  knew  the  terrible  strength  of  his 
ideas  of  caste.  His  tastes  were  not  only  aristocratic,  but 
his  sentiments  were  such.  The  whole  structure  of  his  char 
acter  was  exclusive  ;  and  yet  he  actually  had  brought  him 
self  to  yield  to  the  alliance,  which  at  one  time  he  so  utterly 
opposed,  provided  it  should  be  consummated  after  subject 
ing  the  parties  who  were  to  enter  into  it  to  an  ordeal  of 
time  and  absence.  He  read  and  re-read  the  letters  ;  re 
volved  every  idea  which  they  contained  ;  and  the  deep  and 
silent  hours  of  midnight  found  him  walking  in  his  cham 
ber,  and  looking  in"  troubled  anxiety  over  the  dim,  wide 
sea  which  stretched  before  him,  as  he  sought  to  read  the 
future. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

"  LOVE  took  up  the  glass  of  time,  and  turned  it  in  his  glowing  hands  ; 
Every  moment,  lightly  shaken,  ran  itself  in  golden  sands. 

"  Love  took  up  the  harp  of  life,  and  smote  on  all  the  chords  with  might  ; 
Smote  the  chord  of  self,  that,  trembling,  passed  in  music  out  of  sight." 

TENNTSOH. 


we  submit  ourselves  to  an  ordeal  which  is  to 
prove  us  worthy  of  a  beloved  object,  there  is  a  cheerful 
courage  which  takes  the  place  of  anxiety.  Conscious  of 
our  strength,  we  address  ourselves  to  the  tasks  before  us, 
and  glory  in  suffering  or  in  doing  whatever  awaits  us. 
Love  sheds  over  the  objects  about  us  its  own  glowing  light, 
and  the  days  which  fly  by  us  are  gilded  with  its  hues.  The 
descending  night,  which  comes  to  remind  us  that  there  is 
one  day  less  of  doubt  and  trial,  sends  its  harbinger  of  hope, 
the  star  of  evening,  which  glitters  above  the  horizon,  to 
lure  us  from,  despondency. 

De  Vane  had  represented  to  Esther  the  state  of  his  af 
fairs,  and  she  cheerfully  acquiesced  in  the  arrangement 
proposed  to  test  the  strength  and  loyalty  of  the  sentiments 
which  he  avowed.  Now  that  General  De  Vane  had  yield 
ed  his  objections  to  her  personally,  and  required  only  that 
he  might  be  satisfied  of  the  strength  of  his  son's  attach 
ment,  she  could  not  withhold  her  own  assent  to  a  plan 
which  was  to  demonstrate  it.  Heretofore  she  had  firmly 
refused  to  enter  into  any  engagement  with  De  Vane,  and 
now  she  would  do  no  more  than  encourage  him  to  believe 
that,  when  his  father's  objections  were  removed,  she  would 

(486) 


DE  VANE.  487 

be  ready  to  show  her  own  appreciation  of  a  regard  so  true 
and  enduring.  De  Vane  himself  began  to  view  their  re 
lations  under  brighter  lights,  and  while  the  intervening 
months  which  must  roll 'away  before  he  could  look  upon 
Esther  as  his  own,  by  a  positive  promise  from  her  own 
lips  that  she  would  be  his,  seemed  interminable ;  yet  the 
thought  that  when  they  were  ended,  all  uncertainty  would 
have  passed  away  with  them,  at  length  tranquillized  if  it 
did  not  cheer  him  ;  and  he  bent  himself  to  his  studies  with 
redoubled  energy,  that  he  might  be  admitted  to  the  bar 
before  his  departure  for  Europe.  His  progress  was  very 
great,  and  the  only  relaxation  which  he  took  from  his  in 
tense  study  was  a  ride  on  horseback  with  Waring,  or  an 
evening  drive,  when  the 'day  was  so  inviting  as  to  make  it 
agreeable. 

The  weeks  flew  by  rapidly.  The  winter  was  already 
gone  before  he  could  comprehend  that  its  reign  was  over, 
and  the  signs  of  opening  spring  met  his  eye,  as  if  by  some 
enchantment  the  leafless  trees  had  caught  the  breathing 
warmth  of  the  tropics.  It  was  arranged  that  he  should 
return  to  Virginia  in  May,  and  by  the  close  of  that  month 
sail  from  New-Y<ork  for  London.  March  was  now  almost 
gone.  In  April,  the  court  before  which  he  was  to  be  ex 
amined  opened  its  session,  and  he  was  introduced  to  the 
judges  by  Mr.  Clarendon,  as  an  applicant  for  license  to 
practice.  His  examination  was  perfectly  satisfactory,  and 
he  was  admitted,  with  evident  marks  of  consideration  by 
the  judges,  to  the  bar.  Then  followed  a  few  weeks  of  de 
lightful  recreation.  The  circling  hours  were  bright,  and 
in  the  society  of  Esther  he  enjoyed  those  exquisite  pleas 
ures  which  love  and  hope  shed  over  youth — pleasures  as 
pure  as  they  are  perfect.  The  early  spring  flowers,  the 
deepening  foliage,  the  songs  of  birds,  the  breath  of  nature 
laden  with  the  perfume  of  the  early-blooming  plants,  the 
sunsets  kindling  a  glory  in  the  western  sky  as  deep  and 


488  DE   VANE. 

pure  as  if  the  opening  portals  of  heaven  shed  there  a 
supernal  light — all  this,  De  Vane  and  Esther  enjoyed  as 
we  enjoy  such  scenes  but  once  in  life.  As  we  advance 
upon  the  path  of  existence  and  comprehend  the  ways  of 
the  world ;  as  we  see  so  many  illusions  which  cheered  us  in 
our  youth  fade  away,  and  as  the  actual  engrosses  so  much 
of  time  and  lays  its  imperious  claims  upon  our  finest 
faculties  ;  as  we  become  acquainted  with  sorrow  and  stand 
in  the  presence  of  death,  we  feel  that  the  sad  strain  which 
sighed  over  the  harp  of  a  noble  poet  as  he  swept  its  chords 
in  exile  and  bitterness  is  but  too  true  : 

"The  tree  of  knowledge  is  not  that  of  life." 

But  De  Vane  and  Esther  were  full  of  youth,  and  joy, 
and  hope.  The  light  which  flushed  their  foreheads  awoke 
their  souls  to  gladness,  as  the  earliest  beams  of  the  sun, 
falling  upon  the  statue  of  Memnon,  made  it  vocal,  and 
called  forth  music  to  welcome  the  day. 

Waring's  sympathy  with  his  friend  was  perfect.  His 
own  spirit  was  refreshed ;  and  as  he  saw  the  two  young, 
bright  beings  moving  in  the  realm  of  k>ve  and  hope,  he 
was  accustomed  to  breathe  a  prayer  that  no  cloud  might 
darken  a  sky  so  full  of  light  and  joy. 

So  far  as  his  own  hopes  were  involved,  every  thing  was 
uncertain.  He  had  not  breathed  a  word  of  love  to  Miss 
Godolphin ;  he  awaited  her  decision  as  to  the  addresses  of 
her  cousin  Hubert.  Acting  in  perfect  good  faith,  she  with 
held  her  final  reply  until  he  should  reach  England  and 
write  to  her ;  it  was  then  her  purpose  to  answer  him  in  the 
most  formal  and  emphatic  way.  Waring  saw  her  often, 
sent  her  books  to  read,  some  of  them  intended  to  enlighten 
her  as  to  evangelical  religion,  and  they  discussed  the 
merits  of  these  books,  and  kindred  subjects,  when  they 
met.  Nor  did  he  limit  his  reading,  nor  seek  to  restrict 


DE  VANE.  489 

hers,  to  this  subject  alone.  History,  criticism,  poetry,  and 
general  literature,  all  these  engaged  them,  and  Miss  Go- 
dolphin  learned  to  appreciate  more  and  more  the  extraor 
dinary  mind  and  elevated  character  of  a  man  who,  conse 
crating  himself  solemnly  to  the  work  of  the  Christian 
ministry,  and  exercising  its  functions  among  a  people  upon 
whom  the  great  world  looked  down  with  no  patronizing 
aspect,  was  yet  so  cultivated,  so  refined,  so  transcendently 
superior  to  the  self-appointed  magnates  of  that  class  who 
regarded  Christianity  as  that  circle  did  who,  when  the 
fame  of  Jesus  began  to  take  hold  of  the  heart  of  the  people 
of  Judea,  inquired :  "  Have  any  of  the  rulers,  or  of  the 
Pharisees,  believed  on  him  ?" 

The  time  came  at  length  when  De  Vane  was  to  take  his 
departure.  But  a -few  days  remained  before  he  must  say 
"Farewell !"  for  a  time,  to  those  who  were  so  dear  to  him. 
The  quarterly  meeting  for  the  Methodist  Church  was  about 
to  be  held ;  and  Waring,  yielding  to  the  earnest  request 
of  the  presiding  elder,  consented  to  preach  on  Sunday 
night.  De  Vane  was  to  leave  on  Tuesday,  and  that  was 
one  of  the  considerations  which  induced  him  to  consent  to 
preach  at  a  time  and  in  a  place  where  there  was  so  much 
to  embarrass  him. 

A  very  large  congregation  assembled  to  hear  him.  Per 
sons  of  all  denominations  flocked  to  the  Methodist  church, 
and  filled  its  simple,  plain  seats.  Mr.  Clarendon  attended 
Mrs.  Habersham  and  Miss  Godolphin,  and  Chancellor  Hal- 
lam  and  several  of  the  professors  from  the  College  were 
present.  The  subject  of  Waring's  discourse  was  from  that 
brief  but  noble  Psalm,  in  which  King  David,  after  survey 
ing  the  wide-spread  heavens  through  which  the  moon 
floated,  and  over  which  countless  stars  shed  their  light, 
extols  the  glory  of  the  Lord  of  the  universe,  and  utters  his 
adoring  wonder  that,  bending  from  all  the  splendors  of 
creation,  he  should  be  mindful  of  man,  and  exalt  the  son  of 
21* 


490  DE  VANE. 

man  to  such  dignity  as  to  visit  him.  He  treated  it  with 
the  finest  effect,  exhibiting  man,  at  the  first  view,  as  a 
feeble  being,  the  proudest  and  most  heroic  of  the  race  sub 
ject  to  disease  and  death.  He  then  presented  him  as  an 
intellectual  being,  achieving  the  highest  triumphs  in  the 
arts,  in  literature,  in  science — a  being  capable  of  compre 
hending  the  works  of  God,  susceptible  to  the  noblest  emo 
tions — love,  gratitude,  joy,  adoration;  who,  while  inani 
mate  nature,"  in  its  sublimest  forms  and  most  brilliant  as 
pects,  could  only  reflect  the  majesty  of  the  Maker,  was 
himself  so  organized  that  he  could  vie  with  angels  and 
archangels  in  swelling  the  pomp  of  worship  which  filled 
heaven  with  its  mighty  anthems  and  bore  to  the  farthest 
verge  of  creation  the  sounding  praise  which  made  his  ex 
cellent  name,  known  throughout  its  amplest  bounds.  He 
then  described  him  as  an  immortal  being — a  being  whose 
very  nature  the  Son  of  God  had  assumed ;  who,  by  his 
triumph  over  our  enemies,  had  exalted  the  form  of  human 
ity  to  that  high  seat  which  the  redeemed  and  sanctified 
should  finally  attain.  And  he  proceeded  to  press,  with 
wonderful  power,  the  thought  that  the  life  of  such  a  being 
ought  to  be  consecrated  to  the  noblest  tasks  and  the 
highest  aims  ;  that  such  a  being,  viewed  in  the  revealing 
light  of  divine  truth,  was  too  great  for  the  little  schemes 
of  worldliness  or  the  most  towering  objects  of  human  am 
bition  ;  and  that  his  whole  earthly  existence  should  be  in 
harmony  with  the  glory  which  was  to  be  his  inheritance, 
when  states  and  empires,  and  the  world  itself,  had  per 
ished,  and  nothing  stood  but  the  objects  which  God  had 
made  to  endure  forever.  The  sweep  of  Wai-ing's  thought 
was  broad  and  vigorous,  and  he  bore  those  who  heard 
him  on  its  majestic  tide;  so  that  when  the  sermon  was 
ended,  the  world  and  its  proudest  and  most  dazzling  ob 
jects  stood  dwarfed  in  the  presence  of  the  sublime  scenery 
which  had  just  been  brought  to  view.  The  effect  was 


DE  VANE.  491 

very  great,  and  De  Yane  experienced,  at  the  same  time, 
the  highest  satisfaction  at  the  glorious  success  of  his  friend 
in  preaching  the  Gospel,  and  a  deep  and  awful  sense  of  the 
majesty  of  revealed  truth.  Never  before  had  he  so  com 
prehended  the  relations  of  man  to  his  higher  destiny ; 
never  had  he  been  so  profoundly  conscious  of  the  moment- 
ous  issues  which  attend  life ;  and  long  after,  he  recalled 
the  scene,  the  words,  the  thoughts  of  the  preacher,  and 
uttered  two  lines  of  the  closing  hymn,  lines  written  by 
Montgomery  : 

"  'Tis  not  the  whole  of  life  to  live, 
N"or  all  of  death  to  die." 


Upon  the  rolling  seas,  and  in  distant  lands,  the  vision 
came  back  upon  him  ;  and  he  would  stand  and  look  up  to 
the  deep,  limitless  heavens,  spreading  their  constellations 
above  his  head,  as  if  they  lighted  the  way  to  the  throne  of 
God,  and  breathe  a  prayer  that  the  great  Being  who  dwelt 
beyond  those  visible  glories,  would  be  mindful  of  him,  and 
lead  him  in  the  way  of  truth  and  life. 

As  the  congregation  dispersed,  De  Vane  joined  the 
group,  where  Mr.  Clarendon,  Mrs.  Habersham,  and  Miss 
Godolphin  were  standing  near  the  door,  waiting  to  speak 
with  Waring  ;  but  he  had  passed  out  of  another  door,  and 
walked  with  Mr.  Springfield,  who,  with  Mrs.  Springfield 
and  Esther,  had  succeeded  in  making  their  way  out  of  the 
thronged  avenue  some  moments  earlier  than  others. 

'*  Ah  !"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  he  has  made  his  escape. 
I  really  did  wish  to  thank  him.  I  feel  that  we  all  are  in 
debted  to  him." 

"  So  I  think,"  said  Chancellor  Hallam.  "  I  confess  my 
self  under  the  greatest  obligations  to  Professor  Waring 
for  that  discourse." 

Miss  Godolphin  was  silent,  but  her  face  was  glowing. 


492  BE  VANE. 

She  was  full  of  animation,  but  she  did  not  trust  her  heart 
to  express  itself  in  words." 

"  And  you  are  to  leave  us  on  Tuesday,  Mr.  De  Vane  ?" 
asked  Mr.  Clarendon. 

"  Yes,"  he  replied.  "  I  regret  to  say  that  I  must  take 
my  departure  so  early." 

"  But  I  should  think,"  said  Mrs.  Habersham,  "  that  the 
prospect  of  a  visit  to  Europe  would  be  very  pleasing  to 
you." 

"  So  it  is,  madam,"  replied  De  Vane  ;  "  but  it  can  not 
be  an  unalloyed  pleasure,  as  I  must  leave  my  friends  be 
hind  me." 

Bidding  them  good-night,  he  walked  to  his  lodgings, 
and  had  a  long  conversation  with  Mrs.  Bowen,  who  was 
so  full  of  joy,  that  she  could  not  think  of  retiring  to 
rest,  until  she  had  expressed  it  to  some  one ;  and  she 
found  a  willing  listener  in  De  Vane,  whose  affection  for 

O  / 

Waring  was  not  less  than  her  own. 

While  they  were  engaged  in  conversation,  Waring 
passed  on  to  his  room,  and  retired,  without  seeing  De 
Vane  that  night. 

The  next  day,  De  Vane  was  busily  engaged  in  com 
pleting  his  arrangements  for  his  departure.  He  had  pur 
chased  a  large,  handsome  lot  in  that  part  of  the  town 
which  stretched  between  the  public  garden  and  the  Col 
lege,  and  he  had  already  caused  several  out-buildings,  in 
cluding  a  stable  for  his  horses,  to  be  erected,  thus  settling 
the  question  as  to  his  residence  so  plainly,  that  no  one 
could  doubt  his  purpose  to  make  his  home  there.  He  left 
every  thing  in  charge  of  Waring,  putting  his  horses  and 
servant  fully  at  his  disposal  until  his  return ;  for  he  pre 
ferred  to  take  public  conveyances  in  traveling  to  Virginia. 
There  was  something  pleasing  to  De  Vane  in  leaving  these 
objects  behind  him — in  leaving  something  to  remind  his 
friends  that  he  was  gone  only  on  a  visit,  and  that  he  would 


DE   VANE.  493 

return  to  resume  the  every-day  life  which  he  relinquished 
only  for  a  season.  The  very  shrubbery,  which  began 
already  to  grow  luxuriously,  and  which  was  both  rare 
and  beautiful — having  been  supplied  through  the  kindness 
of  Mrs.  Habersham,  and  the  partiality  of  Mr.  Swan,  the 
public  gardener — imparted  a  home  look  to  his  place,  and 
helped  to  attach  him  to  the  spot. 

Mr.  Swan  offered  his  services  in  looking  after  the  place 
during  his  absence,  and  it  was  often  observed  afterward, 
that  no  garden  in  the  town  displayed  more  beauty  than 
De  Yane's,  even  in  his  absence. 

In  the  evening,  Waring  and  De  Vane  took  tea  at  Mrs. 
Springfield's,  where  they  met  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Clarendon,  and 
Mrs.  Habersham  and  Miss  Godolphin,  who  were  invited 
to  join  them.  It  was  very  agreeable,  both  to  De  Vane 
and  Esther,  to  have  pleasing  associations  connected  with 
the  last  evening  which  they  were  to  pass  with  each  other 
previous  to  their  long  separation.  It  was  better  to  part 
cheerfully,  than  to  take  leave  of  each  other  in  sadness, 
and  doubt,  and  gloom.  They  were  as  yet  but  friends — 
friends  to  be  sure  answering  in  their  relation  to  each  per 
fectly,  that  fine  description  of  such  a  state  in  the  felicitous 
phrase  of  a  noble  poet :  "  Friendship  between  the  sexes  is 
love  full  fledged,  waiting  for  a  fair  day  to  fly."  But  still 
they  were  only  friends,  and  Esther  shrank  from  an  unwit 
nessed  leave-taking. 

The  evening  was  very  bright.  The  supper  was  a  happy 
one  ;  all  enjoyed  it.  Those  who  sat  about  the  table  were 
kindred  spirits,  and  the  winged  hours  rustled  lightly  as 
they  flew  over  them.  Conversation  flowed  freely.  Mr. 
Clarendon  excelled  himself,  and  Mr.  Springfield,  who  rival 
ed  him.  in  that  delightful  gift,  was  as  genial  as  possible. 
Music  was  not  attempted  ;  it  would  have  touched  chords 
too  deep  not  to  bring  tears.  In  such  hours  we  can  not 
enter  the  realm  of  song,  without  losing  control  of  our  sen- 


494 

sibility  ;  and  when  we  begin  to  pause  and  listen  to  voices 
which  we  may  not  hear  again  for  many  months,  if  ever, 
the  spirit  of  sadness  spreads  her  mists  over  the  soul,  and 
we  abandon  ourselves  to  her  sway,  yielding  our  homage 
in  passionate  tears.  Music  was  not  attempted.  The 
strings  of  the  magic  interpreter  of  sentiment  lay  mute. 

Waring  and  De  Yane  lingered  a  few  moments  after  the 
other  guests  had  taken  leave,  and  Mr.  Springfield  invited 
them  to  join  in  the  evening  prayer,  which  he  was  accus 
tomed  to  offer  before  the  family  retired  to  rest.  He  read 
the  eighty-fourth  Psalm,  which  breathes  a  beautiful  trib 
ute  to  the  peace  and  blessedness  of  the  courts  of  the  Lord, 
and  declares  with  triumphant  faith,  "  O  Lord  of  hosts, 
blessed  is  the  man  that  trusteth  in  thee ;"  and  kneeling, 
he*  offered  a  fervent  prayer,  imploring  the  divine  blessing 
upon  them  all,  and  especially  commending  to  the  care  of 
Him  who  neither  slumbers  nor  sleeps,  the  friend  who  was 
about  to  leave  them  for  a  season ;  entreating  that  he 
might  be  kept  from  the  dangers  of  the  land  and  the  perils 
of  the  sea,  and  from  whatever  would  harm  soul  or  body, 
until,  brought  once  more  to  join  in  worship  with  them, 
they  might  all  mingle  their  praises  as  they  bent  again  be 
fore  the  throne  of  grace. 

As  they  rose  from  their  knees,  Esther's  emotion  was 
such,  that  she  could  not  repress  the  tears  that,  if  she  were 
alone,  would  rain  from  her  eyes  ;  even  now  they  glittered 
upon  the  lashes,  and  one  or  two  fell  like  dew-drops  upon 
the  hand  of  De  Yane,  as  she  bent  her  head,  while  he  said, 
cheerfully  :  "  Esther,  farewell !"  He  shook  the  hand  of 
Mrs.  Springfield  tenderly  and  respectfully,  grasped  that  of 
Mr.  Springfield  with  energy,  as  that  gentleman  uttered  a 
fervent  "  God  bless  you  !"  turned  upon  his  steps,  and  was 
gone. 

Was  he  ever  again  to  enter  that  house  where  he  had 
passed  so  many  happy  hours  ?  That  belonged  to  the 


DS   VANE.  495 

future  and  the  unknown.  But  as  lie  walked  away,  with 
Waring,  under  the  star-lit  heavens,  it  seemed  to  him  that 
the  blessing  which  Mr.  Springfield  had  implored  for  him, 
filled  the  air,  invisible  but  felt ;  as  music  floats  in  it,  un 
seen  but  not  voiceless. 

The  next  morning  saw  him  on  his  way  to  Virginia,  and 
again  the  dashing  horses  bore  him  swiftly  away  from  a 
spot  the  dearest  to  him  in  all  the  world. 

After  his  departure,  Esther  devoted  herself  to  her  duties 
at  Leasowes  with  new  activity.  She  found  it  a  great 
resource,  for  occupation  was  essential  to  her;  and  the 
consciousness  of  doing  good  to  the  little  girls,  whose  eyes 
welcomed  her  so  brightly  every  morning,  cheered  her 
indescribably. 

"Waring  often  called  at  Mr.  Springfield's  ;  and  the  inter 
est  which  he  felt  in  De  Vane  seemed  to  bring  the  absent 
one  nearer,.. as  he  spoke  of  him  cheerfully  and  hopefully. 

Some  weeks  after  De  Vane's  departure,  Waring  came, 
bringing  a  letter  for  Esther,  which  had  been  received 
under  cover  to  himself;  and  he  at  the  same  time  stated 
that  he  also  had  a  very  long  one  addressed  to  him.  Both 
were  written  in  New-York,  just  previous  to  De  Vane's 
going  on  board  the  ship  America,  a  splendid  vessel,  which 
sailed  regularly  between  that  city  and  London.  Esther 
instantly  retired  to  her  own  room  to  read  the  letter  which 
Waring  handed  her ;  and  he  remained  in  the  library  with 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Springfield,  giving  them  a  full  account  of 
his  friend's  movements  and  views. 

It  seems  that  De  Vane  had  made  but  a  brief  stay  in 
Virginia,  and  had  proceeded  to  New-York  to  make  ar 
rangements  for  his  voyage.  There  he  met  Hubert  Godol- 
phin  and  his  party  of  friends,  who  were  to  sail  in  the  same 
vessel  with  himself.  He  had  found  in  this  something  to 
cheer  him ;  for  he  was  to  go  abroad  with  one  person  at 
least,  who  knew  those  who  were  so  dear  to  him ;  and  Mr. 


496  DE  VANE. 

Godolphin  had  expressed  the  greatest  satisfaction  upon  ' 
learning  that  De  Vane  was  to  go  out  in  the  same  vessel. 
The  friends,  too,  who  were  with  him,  De  Vane  found  to  be 
most  agreeable  people;  among  them,  Sir  Arthur  Clifford 
and  family,  who  were  related  to  the  Guilfords,  and  who 
had  been  making  them  a  visit.  The  family  consisted  of 
Sir  Arthur  and  Lady  Clifford,  and  two  daughters,  one  of 
them  some  twenty  years  of  age,  and  the  other  about  four 
years  younger.  Their  only  son  was  at  Oxford. 

De  Vane's  letter  to  Esther  was  very  long.  It  described 
every  thing ;  and  its  last  lines  were  written  just  as  the 
vessel  was  about  to  leave  the  wharf.  A  glowing  farewell, 
and  a  passionate  assurance  of  changeless  love,  closed  it. 
It  filled  her  with  happiness  ;  and  kneeling  in  the  stillness 
of  her  own  chamber,  she  offered  a  fervent  prayer  that  the 
wanderer  might  be  kept  by  the  tender  mercies  of  Him 
whose  power  overspreads  the  sea  and  the  lajid,  and  be 
brought  back  in  safety  to  those  who  would  watch  for  his 
coming  as  they  watch  who  wait  for  the  morning  light. 

Descending  to  the  library,  she  entered  into  conversation 
with  Waring,  who  read  aloud  parts  of  his  letter — not 
those  which  referred  to  herself,  but  his  descriptions  of 
persons  and  places. 

It  was  his  first  visit  U>  New-York,  and  he  was  delighted 
with  the  bounding  activity  and  energy  of  the  people ; 
with  the  signs  of  wealth  which  filled  the  streets  ;  with  the 
shipping  crowded  at  the  wharves  of  the  city,  as  if  bring 
ing  from  all  parts  of  the  globe  tributes  to  its  supremacy 
in  the  world  of  commerce ;  with  the  magnificent  bay, 
opening,  through  gates  grander  than  the  Pillars  of  Her 
cules,  into  the  wide  sea ;  Avith  the  spirit  of  enterprise  that 
projected  the  extent  of  the  metropolis  in  larger  lines  than 
those  which  bounded  the  greatest  cities  of  the  Old  World  ; 
and  with  the  stately  ships,  launched  by  its  own  men, 
which  already  outstripped  those  of  all  other  nations. 


DE  VANE.  497 

These,  then,  he  described,  as  they  impressed  his  vigorous 
mind ;  and  he  sketched,  with  power  and  ardor,  the  future 
of  a  city  which  was  seated  upon  the  ocean,  in  such  rela 
tions  to  a  continent  whose  exhaustless  resources  were  far 
beyond  the  power  of  human  calculation. 

Mr.  Springfield  expressed  his  gratification  at  the  views 
exhibited  by  De  Yane  in  his  letter  to  Waring,  and  the 
conversation  turned  upon  the  future  of  him  who  had  gone 
abroad  to  explore  the  great  world. 

"  Mr.  De  Vane's  powers  of  observation,"  said  Mr.  Spring 
field,  "  are  extraordinary,  and  his  mind  will  be  greatly  en 
riched  by  foreign  travel.  He  will  profit  more  by  one 
year's  residence  in  Europe  than  most  persons  of  his  age 
would  by  five.  He  not  only  sees  with  quick  perception 
the  objects  about  him  worthy  to  be  observed,  but  he  looks 
at  them  in  a  way  to  understand  their  value  and  their  influ 
ence.  I  shall  be  exceedingly  gratified,  I  am  sure,  to  read 
his  letters  written  in  the  midst  of  the  scenes  which  will 
surround  him  for  twelve  months  to  come." 

"  Yes,"  said  "Waring,  "  he  will  be  thoroughly  educated 
as  to  some  subjects  which  interest  him  by  the  time  he  re 
turns  home.  His  will  not  be  an  idle  tour  ;  he  will  study 
the  institutions  of  the  states  of  Europe  closely.  His  tastes 
are  aristocratic,  but  his  principles  ai;e  not  all  so  ;  and  he 
will  see  for  himself  the  actual  working  of  the  political 
systems,  which  require  such  an  expenditure  of  money  and 
blood  to  maintain  them." 

"  He  will  find  himself  most  favorably  introduced  to 
English  circles,  by  going  to  London  with  Mr.  Hubert 
Godolphin,"  said  Mr.  Springfield. 

"  Of  course  he  bears  letters  with  him ;  but  he  might  be 
slow  in  presenting  them.  Mr.  Godolphin  will  not  suffer 
him  to  avoid  society." 

"  He  will  enjoy  every  advantage  in  that  way,"  said 
Waring.  "It  is  not  his  purpose,  however,  to  remain 


498  DE  VANE. 

more  than  three  months  in  England.  He  goes  to  the  Con 
tinent,  to  pass  some  time  in  Paris,  and  he  will  spend  the 
winter  in  Italy.  Classical  in  his  tastes,  he  desires  to  spend 
some  time  in  Rome ;  and  his  plan  is  to  return  through 
Germany  to  England  in  the  following  spring,  so  as  to  pass 
a  few  weeks  in  London  during  the  sitting  of  Parliament. 
Since  his  late  visit  to  Virginia,  he  has  decided  to  return 
to  this  country  by  the  latter  part  of  the  summer  of  next 
year." 

"  Indeed  !"  said  Mrs.  Springfield.  "  He  will,  then,  be 
able  to  reach  home — for  his  home  is  here — by  October 
twelvemonth." 

"  That  is  his  plan,"  said  Waring. 

Esther  looked  a  little  conscious,  as  if  she  had  been  al  • 
ready  enlightened  upon  that  point ;  but  she  was  silent. 

"Italy  is,  just  now,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "a  country 
of  very  great  interest.  Her  condition  is,  in  every  respect, 
volcanic.  The  internal  fires  not  only  threaten  to  upheave 
the  land,  but  to  flame  up  against  the  political  system 
which  crushes  and  degrades  her." 

"  Yes,"  said  Waring,  "  the  shock  must  come.  The  signs 
of  coming  disturbances  in  France,  too,  are  too  clear  to  be 
misunderstood.  Two  or  three  years  will  develop  a  popu 
lar  outburst  that  will  shake  the  reigning  dynasty  from  the 
height  where  the  strong  arm  of  united  Europe  has  placed 
it,  if  the  storm  is  not  subverted." 

"  So  I  think,"  said  Mr.  Springfield.  "  Mr.  De  Yane  visits 
Europe  at  a  period  of  unusual  interest.  I  feel  a  very 
strong  inclination  to  go  myself,  but  I  must  wait  yet  long 
er  before  I  gratify  that  wish." 

"It  may  be  that  I  shall  join  you,  when  you  complete 
your  arrangements  for  the  tour,"  said  Waring.  "  I  should 
wish  to  make  it  an  extended  one,  passing  into  the  East, 
and  visiting  the  scenes  associated  with  the  greatest  events 
in  the  history  of  our  race." 


DE  VANE.  499 

"  Let  us  keep  it  in  view,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  and  we 
may  yet  accomplish  it." 

The  ladies  smiled,  and  Mrs.  Springfield  said : 

"Esther  and  I  must  be  of  the  party.  We  should  enjoy 
it  beyond  expression." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  we  must  take  you 
with  us.  Is  there  any  other  person,  Mr.  Waring,  that  you 
would  suggest,  as  necessary  to  complete  the  happiness  of 
the  party  ?" 

All  laughed,  and  Mrs.  Springfield  said  : 

"  It  is  hardly  fair  to  call  upon  Mr.  Waring  so  directly 
to  avow  his  preference  for  traveling  companions." 

"  Oh !  I  was  not  inquiring  about  a  companion  for  the 
journey  of  life,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  but  only  for  a  tour 
through  Europe  and  the  East,  though  there  is  no  saying 
how  that  might  terminate ;  for  if  Mr.  Waring  found  a 
lady  friend  agreeable  upon  such  an  excursion,  he  might  be 
disposed  to  invite  her  to  ti^ead  the  still  longer  road  with 
him." 

At  that  instant  the  door-bell  rang,  and  in  a  moment 
after  Miss  Godolphin  entered  the  room.  All  rose  to  re 
ceive  her,  and  Waring  was  so  embarrassed  by  the  sudden 
ness  of  her  appearance  in  the  midst  of  a  conversation  so 
closely  touching  her,  that  Mr.  Springfield  was  very  much 
amused,  and  he  said  pleasantly  : 

"  Ah !  Miss  Godolphin,  it  is  said  that  the  approach  of  an 
angel  inclines  us  to  speak  of  the  celestial  being ;  and  AVC 
were  just  now  saying  to  each  other  how  happy  we  should 
be  to  make  the  grand  tour,  if  we  could  take  with  us  cer 
tain  friends ;  and  we  were  upon  the  point  of  naming  you 
as  you  entered  the  room." 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Springfield,"  she  replied.  "I  should 
be  most  happy  to  accompany  you  upon  any  journey  that 
•you  might  propose,  and  especially  to  travel  with  you 
through  Europe  and  the  East." 


500  DE  VANE. 

"  Very  well,"  said  he ;  "  that  is  settled.  Hold  yourself 
in  readiness.  The  time  is  not  yet  fixed,  but  the  plan  of 
travel  is  fully  mapped  out." 

"  I  am  delighted  to  hear  it,"  she  said. 

"But  sit  down,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "and  pass  the 
evening  with  us." 

"  Oh  !  thank  you,  no,"  she  replied.  "  It  is  nearly  sun 
set,  and  I  ran  in  to  ask  Esther  to  drive  with  me  to-morrow 
morning  to  see  a  poor  woman,  who,  Mrs.  Gildersleeve 
sends  me  word,  is  sick  and  needy." 

"I  shall  certainly  go  with  you,"  said  Esther;  "but  you 
must  pass  the  evening  with  us.  We  will  send  a  note  to 
Mrs.  Habersham,  informing  her  that  you  are  here." 

"  There  is  no  resisting  you,"  she  said.  "  Let  me  write 
the  note,  Esther." 

Sitting  down  at  Mr.  Springfield's  library-table,  she  wrote 
a  note  to  Mrs.  Haborsham,  explaining  her  detention,  and 
dispatched  it  by  a  servant. 

Then  followed  a  gay  conversation,  in  which  the  plan  of 
travel  was  fully  discussed,  and  as  definitely  arranged,  as 
if  it  were  to  be  undertaken  the  next  week.  She,  too,  had 
received  a  letter  from  New-York,  in  which  Mr.  De  Vane's 
presence  was  named,  and  her  cousin  expressed  the  great 
pleasure  which  it  gave  him  to  find  that  he  was  to  be  a 
fellow-voyager  across  the  Atlantic.  She  spoke  of  this, 
with  perfect  naturalness,  without  the  slightest  embarrass 
ment  ;  and  it  was  easy  to  see  that  she  regarded  Hubert 
Godolphin  only  as  a  kinsman  and  a  friend. 

Rarely  had  Waring  passed  a  happier  evening.  All 
were  bright ;  Mrs.  Springfield  and  Esther  feeling  greatly 
cheered  by  the  letters  from  De  Vane,  and  sympathizing 
with  Waring  in  his  evident  gratification  at  meeting  Miss 
Godolphin,  and  in  hearing  her  speak  thus  of  subjects  which 
interested  him  so  profoundly. 

Mr.  Springfield  was  much  brighter  than  usual,  cheerful 


DE  VANE.  501 

as  he  was  habitually ;  for  he,  too,  was  relieved  by  the 
tidings  which  came  from  one  whose  fortunes  seemed  so 
closely  interwoven  with  those  of  a  being  so  dear  to  him 
as  Esther. 

Waring  walked  to  Mrs.  Habersham's  with  Miss  Godol- 
phin,  and  in  taking  leave  of  her,  could  not  forbear  thank 
ing  her  for  the  pleasure  which  she  had  conferred  on  him 
that  evening,  in  consenting  to  stay,  when  she  came  only 
to  make  a  moment's  call. 

"  I  have  been  so  much  engaged,"  said  he,  "  of  late,  that 
I  have  not  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  you  so  often  as  I 
desired,  and  I  count  it  a  piece  of  good  fortune  to  have  been 
able  to  enjoy  your  society  this  evening." 

"  Thank  you,  "  she  replied. 

It  was  further  than  Waring  had  ever  gone  before  ;  and 
Miss  Godolphin's  voice  almost  trembled  as  she  uttered  her 
brief  reply. 

The  "  Good-night !"  spoken  and  returned,  was  uttered  in 
tones,  which  revealed  the  truth  of  which  neither  was  so 
fully  conscious  before,  that  the  dawn  of  a  new  creation 
was  kindling  its  glories  over  their  souls. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


•DEAD  and  gone  is  the  old  world's  Ideal, 

The  old  arts  and  old  religion  fled ; 
But  I  gladly  live  amid  the  Real, 
And  I  seek  a  worthier  Ideal. 
Courage,  brother,  God  is  overhead !" 

ANONYMOUS. 


THE  summer  came,  spreading  its  verdure  all  over  the 
town.  Leasowes  was  in  its  full  beauty,  and  Esther  passed 
most  of  her  time  there.  She  found  in  the  duties  which 
engaged  her  there,  more  to  cheer  her  than  anywhere  else. 
There  was  an  indefinable  satisfaction  in  dwelling  in  the 
midst  of  scenes  which  De  Vane  was  familiar  with ;  and  the 
consciousness  of  doing  good  to  the  little  girls  who  were 
left  to  encounter  the  perils  of  orphanage  at  so  early  an 
age,  yielded  the  richest  compensation.  It  required  but 
little  stretch  of  faith  to  believe  that  in  the  midst  of  those 
shaded  walks,  angels  trod,  or  spread  their  sheltering  wings 
around  the  little  forms  that  dwelt  there.  Waring  had 
now  made  it  a  rule  to  call  every  Saturday  morning,  and 
make  Esther  a  long  visit,  suggesting  what  he  could  to 
guide  or  lighten  her  tasks,  and  conversing  with  her  about 
the  past,  the  present,  and  the  future. 

It  was  Saturday.  He  had  not  yet  called,  and  Esther, 
seated  under  the  sheltering  vines  that  ran  over  the  front 
piazza,  was  raising  her  head  occasionally  to  look  toward 
the  distant  gate,  when  at  length  she  saw  him  advancing 
toward  the  house  with  rapid  strides,  and  involuntarily 
she  rose  to  meet  him.  As  she  walked  toward  him,  he 

(502) 


DE  VANE.  503 

held  up  letters  in  his  right  hand,  and  shook  them  gayly. 
Her  heart  leaped  within  her ;  for  she  had  not  had  a  line 
from  De  Vane  since  he  sailed  from  New-York.  When 
Waring  approached  near  enough  to  be  heard,  he  ex 
claimed  : 

"  I  congratulate  you  !     Good  tidings  !" 

The  tumultuous  blood  rushed  to  her  face ;  and  as  she 
stood  for  a  moment,  awaiting  Waring's  coming,  he  felt 
that  he  had  never  seen  a  brighter  impersonation  of  joy, 
and  youth,  and  beauty. 

"  Here  are  letters,  Miss  Esther,"  he  said.  "  They  bring 
good  news  from  a  far  country.  I  waited  this  morning  for 
the  mails  to  be  opened  before  making  my  visit ;  for  I  felt 
that  I  should  receive  something  from  our  friend." 

"Thank  you,"  she  said,  earnestly,  as  he  placed  two 
letters  in  her  hand. 

"  It  seems,"  said  Waring,  "  that  by  some  mischance  our 
letters  have  been  detained.  I  have  received  two ;  one 
written  the  very  day  after  De  Vane  arrived  in  London, 
and  the  other  three  weeks  later,  and  yet  they  both  reach 
me  by  the  same  mail.  But  I  am  delighted  to  find  that  our 
friend  is  not  only  well,  but  in  all  respects  what  we  could 
wish  him  to  be.  And  now,  I  am  not  going  to  trespass 
upon  you.  You  must  read  your  letters,  and  I  will  call 
and  see  you  this  evening,  when  we  can  talk  over  every 
thing." 

"  You  are  very  good,  Mr.  Waring,"  said  Esther.  "  I 
shall  be  delighted  to  see  you." 

She  gave  him  her  hand,  and  bidding  her  "  Good-morn 
ing  !"  he  walked  away. 

Esther  was  touched  by  the  delicacy  of  his  conduct,  for 
she  could  not  bear  to  look  into  her  letters  in  his  presence ; 
and,  hurrying  to  the  little  fountain  which  threw  its  bright 
spray  over  the  summer  flowers,  she  seated  herself  and 
opened  her  treasures.  When  she  rose  to  return  to  the 


504:  DE   VANE. 

house,  two  hours  had  flown  by,  and  Mrs.  Green  was  won 
dering  what  she  had  found  to  detain  her  in  the  grounds 
so  long. 

"  Bless  me !"  she  exclaimed,  as  she  saw  Esther,  "  I  did 
not  know  what  had  become  of  you.  Jacob  told  me  he  had 
not  seen  you,  and  I  should  have  thought  you  had  gone 
home,  but  for  your  bonnet  and  parasol,  which  I  saw  lying 
just  where  you  placed  them  this  morning." 

"  No,"  said  Esther,  "  I  have  had  letters,  and  have  been 
reading  them  at  the  fountain." 

"  I  hope  your  friends  are  well,  Miss  Esther,"  said  Mrs. 
Green,  using  the  plural  number,  though  she  had  but  one 
person  in  her  thoughts  when  she  spoke. 

"  Oh  !  yes,  thank  you,"  said  Esther.  "  My  letters  bring 
good  accounts." 

She  had  scarcely  seated  herself,  before  Miss  Godolphin 
entered  the  house,  who,  running  to  Esther,  embraced  her 
ardently.  Her  face  was  beariiing. 

"  O  Esther !"  she  exclaimed,  "  I  have  had  letters  from 
England  ;  and  I  now  feel,  for  the  first  time  for  years,  that 
I  am  as  full  of  joy  as  when  a  child." 

They  entered  a  small  apartment,  which  Esther  had  fur 
nished  as  a  drawing-room,  and  seated  themselves  where 
the  summer  air,  breathing  through  the  shrubbery,  brought 
refreshing  coolness  with  it,  and  the  fragrance  of  flowers. 

Miss  Godolphin  then  proceeded  to  relate  to  Esther,  the 
precise  state  of  her  correspondence  with  her  cousin  Hu 
bert  ;  her  good  faith  in  awaiting  a  letter  from  him  after  his 
return  to  England ;  her  reluctance  to  wound  him,  and  her 
distress  at  his  persistence  in  a  suit  which  she  wished  him 
to  see  was  hopeless.  His  promised  letter  had  now  reached 
her,  and  it  appealed  to  her  once  more  earnestly  to  consult 
her  heart,  and  try  to  give  him  room  to  hope  that  she  might 
be  able  to  reciprocate  a  sentiment  which  had  glowed  not 
only  with  ardor,  but  which  had  burned  steadily  through 


DE  VAXE.  505 

all  discouragements  till  now ;  but  that  if  she  found  it  im 
possible  to  feel  the  interest  in  him  which  he  so  much  de 
sired,  he  would  cease  to  trouble  her  with  his  importunities, 
and  beg  only  that  he  might  be  regarded  as  a  friend,  ready 
always  to  serve  her. 

"  You  can  not  conceive,  Esther,"  she  added,  "  what  a 
sense  of  relief  this  letter  brings  to  me.  I  shall  now  write 
to  my  cousin  as  a  friend,  claim  him  as  such,  and  strive  to 
hold  my  ascendency  over  his  generous  nature,  in  that  re 
lation  ;  for  his  is  truly  a  noble  and  generous  spirit." 

"  Yes,"  said  Esther.  "  I  do  not  doubt  it.  He  must  be 
noble  and  generous.  But  I  am  almost  as  much  relieved  as 
yourself ;  for,  dear,  dear  Hortensia !  I  do  not  think  that 
you  could  ever  love  him ;  and  the  thought  of  giving  one's 
self  away  under  a  sense  of  gratitude,  or  of  yielding  to 
importunity,  is  to  me  simply  dreadful.  I  should  never 
quit  these  shades,  if  such  a  fate  awaited  me." 

"  Of  course,"  replied  Miss  Godolphin,  "  it  is  not  to  be 
thought  of!  I  have  never  loved  my  cousin,  and  it  would 
be  impossible  for  me  to  yield  to  his  wishes.  This  I  shall 
state  to  him  again,  and  this  time  so  emphatically  as  to 
make  it  final.  Marriage  !  I  shudder  to  think  of  it,  where 
any  interior  consideration  induces  the  parties  to  enter  into 
it.  Wealth,  position,  worldly  advantages — these  I  scorn 
beyond  expression ;  and  if  I  even  loved  Hubert,  I  should 
almost  shrink  from  yielding  to  my  own  inclination,  lest 
the  splendid  position  which  it  would  conduct  to  might  in 
some  way  seem  to  influence  me.  If  I  ever  marry,  it  will 
be  because  I  prefer  the  man  to  whom  I  give  my  hand,  to 
any  one  on  earth." 

In  her  animation,  she  rose  from  her  seat,  and  stood  in 
all  the  splendor  of  her  beauty,  her  eyes  flashing  with  the 
light  of  her  awakened  soul. 

"  You  will  marry,  Hortensia,  I  hope  ;  and  marry  a  man 
whom  you  can  love,"  said  Esther,  smiling. 
22 


506  DE  VAXE. 

Miss  Godolphin's  face  flushed,  as  Esther  fixed  her  eyes 
upon  her,  and  she  said  playfully :  "  Yes,  let  us  hope,  dear 
Esther,  that  the  fates  may  deal  kindly  with  us.  By  the 
way,  my  letters  say  that  Mr.  De  Yane  is  greatly  admired 
in  England.  He  is  overwhelmed  with  attentions.  Of 
course,  you  have  heard  from  him." 

"  Yes,"  said  Esther.  "  Mr.  Waring  brought  me  letters 
this  morning." 

"Ah!"  said  Miss  Godolphin;  "and  of  course  you  are 
very  bright.  Is  he  dazzled  with  the  splendors  about 
him  ?" 

"  Far  from  it,  far  from  it,"  she  said.  "  He  is  studying 
the  institutions  of  the  country,  and  while  he  admires  much 
that  he  sees,  he  thinks  that  life  is  too  artificial  in  the 
higher  circles,  and  that  the  pressure  of  the  aristocratic 
system  upon  the  inferior  class  is  too  severe." 

"  I  am  delighted,"  said  Miss  Godolphin.  "  It  is  so  like 
him.  He  is  not  the  man  to  be  misled  by  false  lights,  but 
I  did  not  know  how  the  social  life  of  England  might  aifect 
him." 

"  You  must  come  and  pass  the  evening  with  us,"  said 
Esther,  "and  we  will  discuss  the  whole  subject." 

"  Very  well,"  replied  Miss  Godolphin ;  "  and  now  you 
must  take  a  seat  with  me,  and  let  me  set  you  down  at 
home." 

"  Is  your  carriage  at  the  gate  ?"  asked  Esther. 

"  Yes,"  she  said.     "  I  drove." 

"  I  will  go  with  you  with  great  pleasure,"  said  Esther. 
And,  taking  leave  of  Mrs.  Green  and  her  little  girls,  she 
walked  with  Miss  Godolphin  to  the  carriage,  and  was 
soon  set  down  at  Mr.  Springfield's. 

In  the  evening,  Waring  and  Miss  Godolphin  both  came 
to  tea,  and  the  topics  which  such  parts  of  the  letters  as  were 
communicated  suggested,  were  freely  discussed.  Waring's 
letters  from  De  Yane  were  very  long,  and,  independent  of 


DE   VANE.  507 

the  personal  interest  which  pervaded  some  of  the  para 
graphs,  which  paragraphs  were  not  read  aloud,  there  were 
views  of  public  affairs,  which  engaged  those  who  sat  in 
Mr.  Springfield's  library,  in  the  most  entertaining  way. 
The  freshness  and  vigor  with  which  De  Yane  described 
what  he  saw,  and  the  independent  and  manly  tone  in  which 
he  expressed  his  opinions,  not  only  imparted  a  great  charm 
to  his  letters,  but  awakened  trains  of  thought  that  held 
the  friends  grouped  in  delightful  conversation  for  hours. 

"  So,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  our  friend  Mr.  De  Yane, 
with  all  his  aristocratic  training  and  tastes,  is  not  pleased 
with  the  aspect  of  English  social  life.  I  must  confess  I 
had  supposed  that  he  would  be  fascinated,  for  whatever 
evils  may  exist,  there  must  be  refinement  and  culture." 

"  That  is  quite  true,"  replied  Waring,  "  but  he  has  not 
limited  his  observation  simply  to  the  results  of  their  social 
system,  as  they  appear  in  the  matured  and  ripened  fruits 
found  in  the  mansions  of  the  rich  and  the  noble.  He  has 
looked  at  the  working  of  the  system  in  humble  life,  in  the 
streets  and  lanes  of  the  great  metropolis,  and  in  the 
glimpse  which  he  has  caught  of  it  by  a  brief  visit  to  the 
country,  where  there  are  fewer  cases  of  casual  suffering, 
and  where  the  effects  of  the  order  of  society  in  its  settled 
arrangements  may  better  be  seen  ;  and  while  he  is  charmed 
with  the  culture  and  refinement  of  which  you  speak,  he  is 
most  painfully  impressed  with  the  terrible  cost  to  the  lower 
orders,  by  which  it  is  brought  about  and  sustained.  To 
use  his  own  expression :  '  It  reminds  one  of  the  sparkling 
wine  pressed  out  ©f  grapes  whose  vines  are  nourished  by 
human  blood.'  All  the  splendor  of  the  social  system  can 
not  compensate  for  the  destitution  which  it  engenders  ; 
and  he  adds:  'Any  people  who  can  glory  in  wealth  and 
splendor,  produced  by  a  system  which  drains  the  lower 
classes  of  even  the  common  necessaries  of  life,  are  in  great 
danger,  as  Herod,  who,  clad  in  garments  glistening  like 


508  DE  VANE. 

silver,  was  smitten  and  eaten  up  of  worms,  because  he 
dared  to  assume  what  it  belonged  not  to  man  to  appropri 
ate.'  So  that  he  is  filled  with  admiration  of  the  power 
and  glory  of  England,  but  he  is  utterly  opposed  to  a  sys 
tem  which  confides  the  legislation  of  the  empire  to  the 
control  of  the  very  class  who  are  to  profit  by  giving  it  a 
direction  which  shall  work  to  their  exclusive  advantage." 

"  He  would  carry  out,  then,  in  the  British  empire,"  said 
Mr.  Springfield,  "  those  free-trade  ideas  which  he  insists 
will  alone  develop  the  power  and  glory  of  this  country." 

"  Just  so,"  said  Waring.  "  He  does  not  oppose  a  social 
aristocracy,  which  holds  its  supremacy  by  its  own  inher 
ent  power  to  regulate  the  order  of  things  about  it,  and 
which  maintains  its  ascendency  by  its  wealth,  its  culture, 
and  its  prescriptive  rights ;  but  he  thinks  that  the  laws 
of  a  country  should  leave  open  to  every  one  the  paths  to 
success  ;  that  they  should  be  equal ;  and  that  they  should 
not  put  it  in  the  power  of  one  class,  holding  the  soil  in 
undisputed  possession,  to  legislate  for  their  own  advan 
tage,  and  to  shut  out  supplies  for  human  comfort,  and 
even  human  life,  while  they  revel  in  luxuries." 

"And  he  is  right!"  exclaimed  Miss  Godolphin  with 
energy. 

"  So  every  one  must  say,  I  should  think,"  said  Mr. 
Springfield.  "  The  British  government  is  a  wise  one,  and 
it  is  developing  the  national  power  and  glory  to  a  wonder 
ful  extent ;  but  there  must  be  some  concessions  made  to 
the  working  classes  by  the  land-holders,  or  there  will  fol 
low  in  its  train  social  evils  so  great  as  to  darken  the 
brightest  pages  of  her  history." 

"  My  own  sentiments,"  said  Waring,  "  are  settled.  I 
am  not  in  any  respect  an  admirer  of  aristocracy.  I  be 
lieve  in  man,  as  man,  and  all  the  conventionalism  under 
heaven  can  never  impart  any  elevation  to  a  soul  that  does 
not  derive  its  nobleness  from  something  within.  Nor 


DE  VANE.  509 

would  I  exclude  from  any  position,  political  or  social,  a 
man  who  was  worthy  to  fill  it,  because  of  his  humble 
birth.  I,  from  my  heart,  yes,  from  its  very  depth,  feel 
with  the  Ayrshire  plowman-poet : 

1 A  prince  can  mak  a  belted  knight, 

A  marquis,  duke,  and  a'  that ; 
But  an  honest  man's  aboon  his  might — 

Guid  faith  he  manna  fa'  that  ! 
For  a'  that,  and  a'  that, 

Their  dignities,  and  a'  that ; 
The  pith  o'  sense,  and  pride  o'  worth, 

Are  higher  ranks  than  a'  that.'  " 

He  uttered  the  lines  with  extraordinary  power.  Their 
beauty  and  elevation  were  never  before  so  appreciated  by 
those  who  heard  them ;  and  as  he  ceased  to  speak,  Miss 
Godolphin's  eyes  were  fixed  on  him,  while  her  whole  face 
expressed  the  highest  admiration.  Her  lips  parted,  as  if 
she  were  about  to  speak,  but  she  remained  silent. 

"  Oh  !  how  fully  I  agree  with  you,  Mr.  Waring  !"  said 
Esther.  "  What  are  we,  to  set  hedges  about  us,  to  keep 
away  from  us  the  poor  ?  It  is  our  privilege  to  associate 
with  us  the  good,  the  true,  the  refined,  the  really  noble  of 
all  classes,  and  we  may  limit  our  social  life  to  such  ;  but 
surely  it  is  our  duty  to  endeavor  to  enlighten  and  elevate 
even  the  lowliest." 

"  Just  as  our  Lord,"  said  Waring,  "  was  welcomed  to  a 
home  with  Martha  and  Mary  and  Lazarus,  where  he  found 
purity  and  goodness  and  refinement,  after  walking  through 
the  day  with  the  poor  and  the  outcast,  seeking  to  do  them 
good." 

"  I  mean  to  say,"  said  Esther,  "  that  our  friends  and 
associates  we  are  at  liberty  to  choose  by  our  tastes  and 
our  sympathies,  but  we  must  not  disdain  those  who  are 
beneath  us  because  we  do  not  make  companions  of  them." 


510  DE   VANE. 

"  That  is  just  the  thought,"  said  Waring.  "  How  many 
there  are  that  fail  to  see  it !  The  truth  is,  we,  as  Method 
ists,  are  sometimes  contemned,  because  we  embrace  in  our 
Church  so  many  of  the  poor  and  ignorant;  just  as  if  our 
Lord  had  not,  with  special  earnestness,  directed  the  Gospel 
to  be  preached  to  the  poor." 

"May  it  ever  be  our  reproach  and  our  glory!"  said 
Esther.  "Is  the  light  sullied  because  it  streams  into  a 
hovel,  and  lights  up  an  abode  of  wretchedness  ?  Surely 
the  sunbeam  that  cheers  the  sick  pauper  on  his  pallet  of 
straw,  is  as  pure  as  that  which  falls  upon  the  marble  corri 
dors  of  a  palace." 

Her  face,  as  she  uttered  these  words,  glowed  with  un 
usual  ardor,  and  the  beauty  which  swept  her  perfect  fea 
tures  was  as  pure  as  if  illumined  by  celestial  light.  Tears 
trembled  on  the  eyelids  of  Miss  Godolphin,  who  sat  oppo 
site  to  her  ;  and  in  her  own  generous  soul  she  felt,  at  that 
moment,  how  transcendently  superior  Esther  was  to  all 
the  mere  artificial  beings  which  the  whole  circle  of  society 
could  produce,  if  it  searched  through  all  its  saloons,  either 
in  this  country,  where  a  self-constituted  aristocratic  class 
claimed  superiority,  or  in  England,  where  the  ancestral 
pride  of  generations  sought  to  perpetuate  distinctions  by 
the  laws  of  the  realm.  ^She  knew  that  such  women  were 
not  limited  to  any  class ;  that  in  the  aristocratic  circles  of 
England,  where  she  had  observed  society,  and  in  the  cor 
responding  circles  of  this  country,  true,  noble,  whole-souled 
women  were  to  be  found ;  women  to  be  valued  for  their 
own  inherent  qualities,  and  not  for  the  accidental  advan 
tages  of  rank  and  wealth ;  and  she  knew,  too,  that  such 
women  were  not  produced  by  those  circles  alone,  but  that 
they  existed  in  many  families  which  made  no  aristocratic 
pretensions — households  in  the  midst  of  which  all  the 
pure,  gentle,  grand,  and  really  elevated  virtues  flourished, 
as  plants  of  richest  verdure  and  fairest  flowers  in  their 
natal  soil. 


DE  VANE.  511 

The  months  flew  by.  October,  with  its  glories,  was 
making  the  woods  even  more  beautiful  than  when  they 
awoke  to  new  life  under  the  breath  of  spring.  The  vary 
ing  hues  of  the  leaves — the  bright-red  dogwood,  the  crim 
son  sweet-green,  the  yellow  poplar,  the  rich  evergreens, 
the  clinging  vines,  running  to  the  very  top  of  the  tallest 
trees — made  a  picture  of  rare  beauty.  The  sunsets  were 
glorious ;  the  western  sky  sometimes  flamed  with  the 
strong  beams  as  they  streamed  over  the  hills,  behind 
which  the  glowing  axle  of  the  sun  was  already  hid ;  and 
at  other  times,  the  clouds  which  hung  about  the  king  of 
day,  mantling  his  departing  moments  with  their  trails  of 
splendor,  were  more  gorgeous  than  imagination  could  con 
ceive.  The  town,  with  its  trees  planted  thickly,  not  only 
on  the  sides  of  the  streets,  but  down  the  centre  of  each, 
except  those  in  which  business  claimed  their  entire 
breadth,  was  exhibiting  its  autumnal  beauty.  The  public 
garden  and  Leasowes  were  both  giving  signs  of  the  de 
cline  of  summer,  and  Mr.  Swan  and  Jacob  were  busy 
with  the  falling  leaves,  which  the  freshening  breeze  of  the 
cool  mornings  would  scatter  over  beds  and  walks  in  their 
respective  domains. 

Waring  had  again  resumed  his  labors  at  the  College, 
after  his  summer  vacation,  and  was  deep  in  his  studies. 

Esther,  too,  was  busy  at  Leasowes,  her  number  of  little 
girls  being  as  full  as  ever.  She  was  in  perfect  health,  and 
her  form  was  developing  into  that  matchless  combination 
of  robustness  with  grace  so  rarely  seen  in  this  country. 

Mrs.  Habersham  and  Miss  Godolphin  were  yet  at  Clear- 
brook,  lingering  there  to  enjoy  its  autumnal  beauties  ;  and 
it  had  been  arranged  that  on  Saturday  morning  Esther  was 
to  make  them  a  visit,  attended  by  Waring.  Letters  were 
looked  for  from  De  Vane.  When  he  last  wrote,  he  was  in 
Paris  ;  but  he  was  on  the  eve  of  starting  for  Italy.  By 
this  time  he  must  have  reached  Rome,  and  his  friends  were 


512  DE  VANE. 

eager  to  know  how  the  objects  which  would  appeal  to 
him  there  might  affect  him.  Still  no  letters  came ;  and 
when  Waring  called  for  Esther  on  Saturday,  he  was  com 
pelled  to  say  that  nothing  had  been  heard  of  De  Vane. 

The  visit  to  Clearbrook  was  a  pleasant  one.  There  was 
every  thing  to  make  it  attractive  which  wealth  and  taste 
could  bestow. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Springfield  had  been  invited  to  come  to 
dine,  and  they  reached  there  not  long  after  the  arrival  of 
Waring  and  Esther.  Mr.  Springfield  was  a  great  favorite 
with  Miss  Godolphin.  She  admired  him  for  his  intellect, 
his  learning,  his  religion,  and  his  accomplishments.  And 
she  often  declared  that  it  was  no  easy  task  to  decide  which 
was  the  more  attractive  of  the  two,  Mr.  Clarendon  or  Mr. 
Springfield.  She  never  lost  the  opportunity  of  hearing 
him  preach,  and  she  expressed  her  unbounded  gratification 
at  the  privilege  of  listening  to  one  whose  eloquence  in  the 
pulpit  rivaled  that  of  Mr.  Clarendon  in  the  forum. 

The  day  was  delightful.  And  in  the  evening  Mrs.  Hab- 
ersham  and  Miss  Godolphin  returned  with  their  guests  to 
the  town.  Their  establishment  was  already  prepared  to 
receive  them,  and  they  had  desired  to  have  their  friends 
with  them  the  very  last  day  that  they  passed  at  Clear- 
brook. 

Several  weeks  passed  by,  and  yet  no  letters  came  from 
De  Vane.  All  felt  anxious  about  him. 

One  morning,  Mr.  Clarendon  met  Esther  at  the  book 
store,  and  said  to  her :  "  What  on  earth  has  befallen  De 
Vane,  Miss  Wordsworth  ?  Do  any  of  his  friends  hear 
from  him  ?" 

"  I  can  not  say,  Mr.  Clarendon,"  she  replied.  "  I  have 
not  heard  of  late  of  letters  being  received  from  him." 

"  Confound  the  fellow  !"  said  Mr.  Clarendon.  "  I  sus 
pect  he  is  engaged  in  some  conspiracy  for  liberating  Italy, 
and  they  have  thrown  him  into  one  of  their  airy  dungeons. 
That  fellow  at  Naples  is  just  the  man  to  do  it." 


DE  VANE.  513 

Esther  laughed,  and  said:  "I  certainly  trust  that  no 
such  ill-fortune  has  befallen  him." 

"  Or  can  it  be,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  that  the  Pope  has 
got  hold  of  him,  and  is  trying  to  make  a  Christian  of 
him  by  confining  him  in  some  convenient  cell,  where  he 
can  read  him  a  lecture  occasionally  upon  the  absurdity  and 
wickedness  of  his  German  transcendentalism  ?  Depend 
upon  it,  the  fellow  has  fallen  into  some  such  scrape,  or  he 
would  have  written  to  his  friends.  He  wrote  to  me  from 
Paris,  but  I  had  that  letter  two  months  ago." 

While  Mr.  Clarendon  was  speaking,  Mr.  Le  Grande 
walked  into  the  store,  and  came  immediately  to  where 
Esther  was  standing.  Bowing  very  low  and  lifting  his 
hat,  he  said  : 

"  I  am  very  happy  to  meet  you,  Miss  Wordsworth." 

Esther  thanked  him,  and  inquired  when  he  had  arrived. 

"  But  yesterday,"  he  said.  "  I  could  not  be  here  on 
Monday,  as  I  should  have  been,  to  witness  the  opening  of 
our  session,  being  kept  at  home  by  engagements  which  I 
could  not  put  aside." 

"  I  observed  that  you  were  not  in  your  seat,"  said  Es 
ther. 

"  Thank  you  for  taking  the  trouble  to  look,"  replied  Mr. 
Le  Grande. 

"  Why,  Le  Grande,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  that  we  all 
did.  Could  you  imagine  that  your  vacant  seat  would  be 
unobserved  ?  Was  not  the  statue  of  Brutus  demanded  in 
the  presence  of  all  the  thronged  procession  ?" 

"  You  are  very  good,"  said  Mr.  Le  Grande.  "  I  was  to 
ask  after  Mr.  De  Yane.  Has  he  been  heard  from  lately  ?" 

"  We  were  just  speaking  of  him,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon. 
"  My  last  letter  from  him  was  received  some  two  months 
since,  and  I  do  not  know  what  to  say  about  his  silence." 

"  He  perhaps  finds  so  much  to  engross  him  in  observing 
the  objects  of  the  old  world,  that  he  can  not  find  leisure 
22* 


514  DE  VANE. 

to  put  his  sensations  into  words  just  yet,"  said  Mr.  Le 
Grande. 

"  When  you  and  I  were  there,  Le  Grande,"  said  Mr. 
Clarendon,  "  we  were  not  very  good  letter- writers,  I  be 
lieve.  We  dwelt  in  the  presence  of  objects  which  filled 
the  imagination,  and  we  could  not  quit  them  for  the  task 
of  coldly  recording  our  sensations."  % 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Le  Grande  ;  "  and  comprehending  Mr. 
De  Vane,  as  I  do,  I  can  very  well  conceive  his  emotions  in 
visiting  Rome,  a  spot  where  there  is  more  to  awaken  thought 
as  to  the  comparative  claims  of  the  old  world — I  mean  the 
ancient,  the  classical  world — and  those  of  the  modern,  than 
in  any  other  plaice  on  earth.  He  is  intensely  republican, 
and  as  intensely  modern,  much  as  he  loves  the  classics ; 
and  as  he  stands  in  view  of  the  monuments  of  a  past  civil 
ization,  confronting  the  objects  of  the  present  age,  as  they 
are  seen  there,  he  will  'be  more  than  ever  disposed  to  re 
gard  America  as  the  field  where  the  ideal  and  the  actual, 
combining  their  forces,  will  produce  a  higher  and  nobler 
civilization  than  the  race  has  ever  yet  attained." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon  ;  "  there  is  nothing  of  the 
actual  in  Rome.  The  Eternal  City  stands  upon  the  ashes 
of  its  former  glory,  and  the  structures  which  the  Church 
has  reared  there  seem  like  solemn  temples  erected  to  cele 
brate  the  memory  of  its  past,  with  pompous  and  imposing 
ceremonials.  One  monument  yet  stands,  a  fit  memorial  of 
its  ancient  magnificence  and  colossal  power  —  the  Coli 
seum.  What  a  conception  it  gives  us  of  the  grandeur  of 
the  people  who  once  dwelt  there  !" 

"  Every  thing  that  one  meets  there,"  said  Mr.  Le  Grande, 
"  is  so  suggestive,  that  we  want  leisure  to  compose  our 
thoughts.  We  must  study  our  own  ideas  before  we  are 
able  to  make  them  intelligible  to  others.  It  is  impossible 
to  stand  in  the  presence  of  the  shattered  civilization  of  an 
empire,  and  observe  its  seats  of  power,  without  feeling 


DE  VANE.  515 

disposed  to  observe  more  closely  and  to  study  more  pro 
foundly  the  institutions  about  us.  There  can  be  no  better 
training  for  a  statesman  than  to  give  him  the  opportunity 
of  observing  the  working  of  the  political  systems  of  mod 
ern  Europe,  and  then  place  him  in  Rome,  where  he  may 
study  the  history  of  a  colossal  empire  lying  all  about  him 
in  ruins.  He  will  comprehend  Avhat  Bolingbroke  means 
when  he  says  '  that  history  is  philosophy  teaching  by  ex 
ample.'  " 

"After  all,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "we  are  working  out 
a  grand  problem  in  this  country  ;  but  it  is  a  problem  not 
yet  solved." 

Mr.  Le  Grande  shrugged  his  shoulders,  but  made  no  re 
ply.  He  said  to  Esther,  however  : 

"  And  what  do  you  say  to  that,  Miss  Wordsworth  ?" 

"  Oh  !"  she  said,  "  I  think  that  the  affairs  of  nations  are 
ordered  by  One  who  will  conduct  them  in  the  right  way, 
if  the  people  acknowledge  his  right  to  rule.  You  know  it 
is  written  :  '  Blessed  is  that  people  whose  God  is  the  Lord.'  " 

Both  the  gentlemen  bowed. 

Mr.  Le  Grande  took  up  a  number  of  a  Review  which 
had  just  "been  published,  and  asked  Esther  if  she  had  yet 
read  it. 

"  Yes,"  she  said ;  "  and  I  think  it  promises  to  be  pre* 
eminently  successful.  I  have  met  with  no  Review  which, 
I  think,  approaches  it  in  excellence.  The  State  may  well 
be  proud  of  it." 

Mr.  Le  Grande  was  much  gratified ;  for  ifwas  understood 
that  he  had  contributed  largely  to  its  pages.  After  some 
further  conversation  about  books,  Esther  bowed  to  the 
gentlemen,  and  was  about  to  leave  the  store,  when  Mr. 
Clarendon  said : 

"  Miss  Wordsworth,  suffer  me  to  attend  you.  You  are 
walking,  are  you  not  ?" 

Esther  replied  that  she  should  be  happy  to  be  so  attend- 


516  DE  VANE. 

ed ;  and  Mr.  Clarendon  saw  her  home,  taking  the  oppor 
tunity  of  saying,  on  the  way,  that  he  was  confident  De 
Vane  was  only  waiting  to  put  his  ideas  of  Italy  into  a 
satisfactory  form  before  he  wrote,  and  that  there  was  not 
the  slightest  occasion  for  uneasiness. 

After  he  took  leave,  Esther  felt  grateful  for  his  consider 
ate  kindness,  and  for  the  delicacy  with  which  it  was  ex 
pressed  ;  and  she  was  cheered  by  the  words  of  'one  who 
felt,  as  she  well  knew,  so  true  an  interest  both  in  De  Vane 
and  herself. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

"AND  hopes,  and  fears  that  kindle  hope, 

An  undistinguishable  throng, 

And  gentle  wishes  long  subdued — 

Subdued  and  cherished  long  !" 

SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLKRIDGB. 

THE  winter,  which  had  been  an  unusually  brilliant  one, 
was  drawing  toward  its  close.  Miss  Godolphin  had  given 
to  the  social  entertainments  of  the  season  a  great  charm. 
The  shadow  which  had  somewhat  obscured  her  brightness 
had  passed  away,  and  her  fascination  was  everywhere  felt. 
Tributes  to  her  charms  had  been  offered  by  more  than  one 
gentleman,  which  might  have  flattered  the  pride  of  many 
who  moved  in  the  circle  which  she  adorned ;  but  she  heed 
ed  them  not.  Like  some  brilliant  child  of  song  at  whose 
feet  bouquets  are  showered,  but  who  disdains  to  stoop  to 
gather  them,  she  passed  on,  as  if  unconscious  of  attracting 
the  admiration  so  lavishly  bestowed. 

Speculations  were  hazarded  as  to  the  cause  of  her  indif 
ference  to  the  homage  that  was  tendered  her.  As  to  Es 
ther,  she  had  so  distinctly  repelled  all  attentions  which 
transcended  the  formal  lines  of  mere  politeness,  the  im 
pression  made  very  generally  was,  that  she  must  be  en 
gaged  to  De  Yane,  and  that  the  high  principle  which  was 
known  to  govern  her  conduct  in  all  things,  made  her  dis 
courage  every  thing  which  could  lead  any  one  to  suppose 
that  she  would  receive  any  tribute  tinged  with  sentiment. 
But  in  the  case  of  Miss  Godolphin,  it  was  believed  that  no 

(517) 


518  DE  VANE. 

such  motive  existed.  She  was  frank,  perfectly  easy,  gay, 
but,  it  seemed,  impressionless.  Some  pronounced  her  cold, 
but  yet  every  feature,  every  motion  seemed  informed  with 
soul. 

Waring  visited  her  frequently,  but  he  had  never  even  hint 
ed  love.  Every  thing  else  was  freely  discussed  by  them — 
literature,  the  arts,  religion,  society ;  but  of.  love  they 
never  spoke.  In  many  benevolent  enterprises  they  assist 
ed  each  other,  and  they  often  met  at  Mr.  Springfield's, 
where  in  delightful  conversation  their  views  were  inter- 

O 

changed. 

Returning  on  a  very  fine  morning  from  the  College, 
Waring  walked  into  the  public  garden  to  observe  some 
plants  of  rare  beauty  which  were  beginning  already  to 
feel  the  breath  of  the  coming  spring.  An  unusual  number 
of  visitors  had  been  attracted  by  the  genial  warmth  of  the 
day,  and  as  he  stood  observing  the  groups  scattered  over 
the  grounds,  he  saw  Miss  Godolphin  in  a  walk  not  far 
from  him,  stooping  to  speak  to  a  child  who  was  attended 
by  a  maid-servant.  He  walked  over  to  join  her,  and  as  he 
approached,  he  heard  the  conversation  between  Miss  Go- 
dolphin  and  the  child — a  little  girl  of  extraordinary  beauty, 
and  dressed  with  exquisite  taste.  The  fair  hair  and  blue 
eyes  of  the  child  were  such  as  the  old  painters  loved  to 
transfer  to  their  canvas,  and  her  intelligence  was  wonder 
ful.  Only  some  six  years  of  age,  she  conversed  with  grace 
and  propriety.  Pier  language  was  beautiful,  and  her  man 
ner  imparted  a  womanly  dignity  to  all  that  she  uttered. 

"  My  dear  Marie,"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  "  are  you  about 
to  return  home  ?  It  is  very  early  yet.  Stay  and  enjoy  the 
flowers  a  little  while  longer,  will  you  not  ?" 

"  Oh  !  thank  you,  Miss  Godolphin,"  replied  little  Marie, 
"  mamma  said  I  must  not  stay  long  out,  and  I  ought  to  go 


DE  VANE.      ^  519 

"  But  would  mamma  object  to  your  staying  a  little 
longer  with  me  ?  I  will  take  you  home." 

The  child  looked  as  if  she  very  much  wished  to  stay, 
but  her  face  was  troubled.  She  wore  a  pretty  apron,  and 
as  Miss  Godolphin  stooped  to  speak  to  Marie,  she  saw  a 
very  small  stain  on  it,  as  if  a  flower  had  been  crushed 
against  it.  The  child's  eyes,  too,  were  fixed  on  it,  and  she 
said,  after  a  moment's  pause  : 

"  I  think,  Miss  Godolphin,  I  had  better  go  now.  I  was 
so  unfortunate  as  to  bruise  a  hyacinth  upon  my  apron,  and 
mamma  told  me  I  must  not  get  a  speck  on  it." 

The  child  was  very  unhappy.  She  evidently  dreaded  to 
meet  her  mother.  The  whole  splendor  of  the  day  was 
eclipsed  for  her  young  soul  by  that  one  spot  on  her  apron^ 
Yet  with  perfect  delicacy  she  said  not  a  word  as  to  what 
would  follow  the  discovery  of  the  stain  upon  her  return 
home. 

Miss  Godolphin's  eyes  filled  with  tears  as  she  looked 
down  upon  the  bright  little  creature,  wretched  because  of 
a  trifle,  which  would  be  magnified  into  a  serious  offense 
by  the  cruelty  of  a  mother  who  could  punish  as  a  crime  a 
casualty  so  trivial.  At  that  moment  Waring  came  up, 
and  Miss  Godolphin  lifting  her  face  to  him,  he  saw  her 
moist  eyes.  She  extended  her  hand,  smiling  but  silent. 

"  Ah  !"  said  Waring,  "this  is  my  little  friend  Marie." 

The  child's  face  brightened  as  if  a  sunbeam  had  passed 
over  it,  and  she  exclaimed  : 

"  O  Mr.  Waring  !  I'm  so  glad  to  see  you." 

He  stooped  and  kissed  the  child. 

"  Well,  my  little  Marie,"  said  he,  "  are  you  really  about 
to  go  ?  I  heard  you  say  to  Miss  Godolphin  that  you  must 
return  home." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  she  said,  "  it  is  better  that  I  should  go.  I'm 
so  sorry  that  I  bruised  that  flower  upon  my  apron  ;  I  ought 
to  have  been  more  careful." 


520  ,         DE  VANE. 

Waring's  heart  was  touched.  He  thought  of  the  little 
girl  returning  home  to  meet  a  mother  so  artificial  as  to 
think  dress  a  more  serious  thing  than  the  happiness  of  her 
child,  a  mother  so  cruel  as  to  punish  as  a  grave  offense  a 
little  flower-stain,  which  a  heedless  step  of  little  feet  had 
produced ;  and  he  resolved  that  she  should  not  go  unat 
tended,  that  he  would  go  and  plead  for  Marie. 

Miss  Godolphin  looked  on.  She  comprehended  how  the 
great,  manly  nature*  of  Waring  was  wrought  on,  as  he 
turned  to  her,  and  said  :  "  I  will  walk  home  with  Marie." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Waring,"  she  said ;  "  do  walk  home 
with  her,  or  rather,  as  she  has  perhaps  staid  a  little  over 
the  time,  take  my  carriage,  which  is  at  the  gate,  and  I  will 
await  its  return." 

He  thanked  her  with  one  of  his  brightest  smiles,  and 
taking  Marie  and  her  servant  with  him,  he  drove  to  Mrs. 
De  La  Roche's  residence. 

As  he  handed  Marie  up  to  the  door,  she  said : 

"  Will  you  not  come  in  and  see  mamma,  Mr.  Waring  ?" 

"  Yes,  my  dear  Marie,  that  I  will,"  he  said ;  adding  in  a 
low  tone :  "I  think  lions  at  the  threshold  could  not  turn 
me  back." 

Mrs.  De  La  Roche  welcomed  Waring  warmly.  She  was 
a  young  person,  of  some  twenty-seven  years,  very  animat 
ed,  and  not  naturally  deficient  in  heart ;  but  she  had  for 
some  years  led  a  life  so  artificial  as  to  dull  her  better  na 
ture,  and  she  had  fallen  into  the  error  of  restraining  her 
daughter — an  only  child — from  the  sportive  exercise  so 
essential  to  health  and  physical  development.  She  ad 
mired  and  respected  Waring,  and  she  was  much  flattered 
by  his  attending  the  little  girl.  Of  course,  her  better  na 
ture  was  awake. 

"  I  am  happy  to  see  you,  Professor  Waring,"  she  said. 
"I  owe  the  honor  of  this  visit  to  Marie,  I'm  sure." 

"  Yes,"  said  Waring,  "  I  should  not  have  called  at  this 


DE  VANE.  521 

time,  but  for  the  pleasure  of  escorting  my  dear  little  friend. 
I  found  her  in  the  public  garden,  and  she  was  upon  the 
point  of  starting  for  home.  I  prevailed  on  her  to  come 
with  me  in  the  carriage." 

"  I'm  very  greatly  obliged  to  you,"  said  Mrs.  De  La 
Roche,  "  for  I  began  to  fear  she  would  stay  longer  than  I 
intended  she  should." 

"  She  was  resolute  in  coming,"  said  Waring.  "  Both 
Miss  Godolphin  and  myself  urged  her  to  stay  longer,  but 
she  said  her  mamma  would  expect  her,  and  I  could  not 
deny  myself  the  pleasure  of  coming  with  her.  I  found  her 
somewhat  distressed  too  about  a  trifle,  and  I  could  not 
bear  to  see  her  unhappy  when  I  knew  she  was  not  in 
fault." 

Marie,  who  was  present,  began  to  look  conscious,  and 
presently  walking  directly  to  her  mother,  she  showed  her 
the  stain  on  the  apron.  For  a  moment  Mrs.  De  La  Roche's 
face  flushed ;  she  then  smiled,  and  said  : 

"  Oh  !  that  is  not  a  great  matter,  Marie  ;  but  you  must 
be  more  careful  next  time." 

A  glow  of  happiness  suffused  Marie's  face,  and  returning 
to  Waring's  chair,  she  looked  up  into  his  face  with  unut 
terable  thanks  shining  through  her  blue  eyes,  and  then 
disappeared. 

Waring  then  proceeded  to  describe  the  unhappiness 
which  the  little  girl  had  suffered  on  account  of  a  matter  so 
trivial,  and  ventured  to  express  his  views  as  to  the  freedom 
and  unrestraint  which  children  should  enjoy,  saying  some 
thing  too  of  the  distinction  between  the  demerit  of  casual 
ties  and  of  crimes  ;  so  that  before  he  took  leave  of  Mrs.  De 
La  Roche,  he  had  really  made  her  conscious  of  the  errors 
and  mischiefs  of  the  system  into  which  she  had  drifted. 
She  thanked  him  warmly  for  his  interest  in  her  -child — 
for  Waring  had  spoken  of  her  in  glowing  terms  after  Marie 
had  gone  out  of  the  room — and  invited  him  to  call  often 


522  DE  VANE. 

and  visit  them.  Waring's  brief  visit  had  accomplished 
much  for  the  happiness  of  Marie  De  La  Roche.  He  left 
sunshine  in  a  dwelling  where  too  often  clouds  had  sur 
rounded  a  little  form  fair  as  an  angel's.  Entering  the  car 
riage,  he  returned  to  the  public  garden,  and  found  Miss 
Godolphin  seated  near  the  green-house,  while  Mr.  Swan 
was  expatiating  upon  the  glories  of  some  new  flowers 
which  he  had  succeeded  in  rearing  for  the  first  time.  He 
had  presented  to  Miss  Godolphin  a  bouquet  of  great  beauty, 
and  as  Waring  approached,  she  rose  to  meet  him,  saying  : 

"  See  how  generous  Mr.  Swan  has  been.  Are  not  these 
beautiful  ?" 

"  Very,"  said  Waring.  "  You  must  be  almost  as  great 
a  favorite  as  De  Vane." 

She  laughed,  and  said :  "  I  really  believe  that  I  am  in 
debted  for  the  flowers  to  the  interest  which  I  displayed, 
while  Mr.  Swan  spoke  of  him.  He  has  been  the  subject 
of  discourse  since  you  left  me  here.  But  how  was  Marie 
received  ?" 

"  Graciously,"  replied  Waring. 

He  then  gave  an  account  of  his  interview  with  Mrs.  De 
La  Roche.  Miss  Godolphin  was  deeply  interested,  and 
she  thanked  Waring  with  warmth  for  his  interposition  in 
behalf  of  the  little  girl.  She  had  never  admired  him  so 
much  as  at  this  moment,  and  her  soul  shone  in  her  face  as 
she  spoke.  Waring,  too,  as  he  saw  the  noble  nature  of  the 
woman,  so  roused  by  sympathy  with  a  child's  sorrow, 
comprehended  more  clearly  than  ever  before  her  tran 
scendent  superiority  over  the  whole  tribe  of  artificial 
beings  who  compose  the  gay  world,  and  who  would  de 
spise  as  a  weakness  the  sensibility  which  could  be  touched 
by  such  a  cause. 

They  were  passing  down  the  broad  walk  leading  to  the 
principal  gate,  and  as  they  approached  it,  lesser  walks,  di- 


DE  VANE.  523 

verging  on  either  side,  conducted  to  the  more  sheltered 
parts  of  the  garden. 

"  Miss  Godolphin,"  said  Waring,  "  are  you  eager  to  re 
turn  to  the  town  ?  Or  will  you  take  a  turn  with  me 
through  the  garden  ?" 

She  looked  up  into  his  face  quickly,  for  there  was  some 
thing  in  his  tone  Avhich  startled  her.  There  was  the  inde 
finable  voice  of  the  soul,  which  her  own  soul  heard;  and 
she  read  in  his  face  that  upon  that  hour  trembled  the  fate 
of  both. 

"  I  will  walk  with  you,"  she  said,  in  low  tones. 

They  turned  into  the  right  walk,  bordered  by  ever 
greens  ;  and  for  some  minutes  not  a  word  was  uttered  by 
either.  At  length  Waring  spoke. 

"  Miss  Godolphin,  I  do  not  know  what  fate  awaits  me. 
For  many  months  I  have  observed  you ;  pardon  me  for 
saying  it,  I  have  studied  you,  but  I  have  been  unable  to 
comprehend  you.  Some  men  would  risk  nothing  under 
such  circumstances — they  would  seek  to  know,  by  some 
token,  what  was  before  them.  I  am  incapable  of  trifling  ; 
and,  without  in  the  least  knowing  what  may  be  the  result 
of  my  frankness,  I  can  no  longer  restrain  the  energy  of  a 
passion  which  sways  my  whole  nature.  I  love  you !" 

Instantly  Miss  Godolphin  stood  still.  She  turned  her 
soul-lit  face  full  upon  Waring.  Her  lustrous  eyes  sought 
his  eyes.  Steadily  for  a  moment  she  fixed  her  earnest  gaze 
upon  him  ;  then  solemnly  she  laid  her  ungloved  right  hand 
in  his,  and  burst  into  tears. 

"  Forever  mine  !"  said  Waring  passionately,  "  forever 
mine !"  and  lifting  her  hand  to  his  lips,  he  impressed  on  it 
a  fervent  kiss. 

After  a  moment,  she  raised  her  bowed  head.  Her  face 
was  radiant,  and  smiling  through  her  tears,  she  said: 
"Let  us  go." 

All  about  them,  plants  in  tropical  splendor  bloomed. 


524  DE  VANE. 

They  were  shut  in  from  all  the  world.  None  but  these 
mute  witnesses  of  their  vows  were  present.  They  walked, 
as  did  our  first  parents,  amid  the  glories  of  nature ;  and 
as  they  turned  their  steps  once  more  toward  the  gate, 
Waring  said : 

"  My  beloved,  we  quit  this  garden  not  with  tears,  and 
sorrow,  and  regret,  but  with  a  blessing  ;  and  looking  up 
ward,  we  may  feel  that  Providence  is  our  guide." 

How  brightly  she*  smiled  on  him,  as  he  handed  her  to 
her  carriage  !  The  spirited  horses  dashed  away,  and  as  the 
flying  vehicle  passed  out  of  sight,  "Waring  looking  up  to 
Heaven,  uttered  thanks,  and  implored  a  blessing :  thanks 
for  the  bliss  which  was  his,  and  an  earnest  prayer  for  the 
blessing  which  enricheth  everlastingly. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

"Bur  where  they  are,  and  why  they  came  not  back, 
Is  now  the  labor  of  my  thoughts.     'Tis  likeliest 
They  had  engaged  their  wandering  steps  too  far." 

MILTON'S  Comus. 

DE  VANE  was  in  Rome.  Letters  came,  full  of  enthu 
siasm.  The  ruins,  the  fallen  columns,  the  shattered  arches, 
the  broken  monuments  of  a  dead  empire,  filled  his  im 
agination.  The  modern  world,  too,  interested  him  pro 
foundly.  The  arts,  painting  and  statuary,  woke  his  soul 
to  new  ardor.  He  had  lingered  at  Florence  longer  than 
he  intended  ;  but  how  could  he  tear  himself  away  from  its 
galleries,  filled  with  the  triumphs  of  ancient  and  modern 
art  ?  How  should  he  quit  the  banks  of  the  Arno,  upon 
which  Milton  had  lingered  ?  How  could  he  withdraw  his 
gaze  from  the  paintings  of  Raphael,  or  cease  to  look 
upon  the  works  of  Michael  Angelo  ?  How  leave  the  gar 
den  of  Lorenzo  de  Medici,  or  the  spot  where  Galileo 
stood  to  watch  the  stars  in  their  wide  circuits  through  the 
pellucid  heavens  ? 

But  he  was  in  Rome,  treading  upon  an  empire's  dust. 
The  past  and  the  present  met  before  him.  The  pomp  of 
triumph  had  ascended  the  steps  of  the  capital,  in  full  view 
of  the  spot  where  he  stood ;  but  the  very  capital  was  lev 
eled,  and  the  men  who  thronged  its  approaches  were  gone. 
Saint  Peter's  rose  before  him  ;  its  matchless  dome,  its  illu 
mined  cross — the  whole  structure  a  monument  of  modern 
civilization,  attesting  the  triumph  of  Christianity. 

(525) 


526  DE  VANE. 

De  Vane,  standing  in  the  midst  of  such  impressive  ob 
jects,  found  his  soul  roused.  He  re-visited  the  past,  trav 
eled  over  its  track,  guided  by  the  lights  of  history ;  and 
he  saw  at  his  feet  the  ruin  of  the  proudest  structure  man 
had  ever  reared — the  Roman  Empire !  What  had  survived 
of  it  ?  Where  were  its  temples  ?  Where  its  gods  ?  Where 
its  priests  ?  Where  was  its  religion  ?  The  ISTiobe  of  na 
tions  was  voiceless  ! 

How  was  it  that  a  faith,  springing  up  in  a  province  of 
that  empire,  had  outlived  all  its  power  and  glory,  and 
while  the  palaces  of  the  Caesars  had  passed  away,  reared 
its  own  temples  upon  the  hills  where  they  once  stood  ? 
How  was  it  that  while  the  fierce  legions  which,  return 
ing  from  the  conquest  of  distant  nations,  had  thundered 
through  the  streets  of  the  imperial  city,  were  all  gone, 
the  disciples  of  Him  who,  upon  the  slopes  of  the  Mount 
of  Olives,  had  inaugurated  a  kingdom,  still  trod  these 
streets  .which  had  been  the  scene  of  so  much  pomp  and 
splendor  ? 

Along  the  banks  of  the  Tiber,  Cicero  had  Avalked,  utter 
ing  his  lamentations  for  a  daughter  torn  from  his  arms  by 
death — a  stricken,  hopeless  father,  seeking  to  perpetuate 
the  memory  of  a  beloved  object,  by  erecting  a  temple  on 
the  spot  where  his  eyes  rested  with  a  fond  and  yet  sad 
association.  But  father,  daughter,  temple,  all  were  gone ; 
while  a  triumphant  faith,  making  its  way  only  by  preach 
ing  its  doctrines  with  a  simplicity  that  did  not  aspire  to 
rival  his  eloquence,  to-day  threw  its  illuminating  splendors 
over  a  realm  wider  than  the  empire  in  its  proudest  days, 
and  uttered,  in  almost  every  language  under  heaven,  its 
consolations  over  the  graves  of  the  loved  and  the  de 
parted. 

One  night,  De  Vane  had  walked  out.  He  was  alone. 
The  moon  was  flooding  the  heavens  with  its  silvery  splen 
dor  ;  the  distant  hills  stood  looking  down  upon  the  Eternal 


DE  VANE.  527 

City.'  He  saw  the  Coliseum  standing  out  grandly  against 
the  sky,  and  he  recalled  the  fierce  sports  of  the  people  who 
once  filled  its  ample  amphitheatre.  The  past  rolled  before 
him  with  all  its  deeds ;  the  civilization  of  that  age  he  saw 
for  the  first  time  in  all  its  revolting  barbarism — splendid, 
but  hard,  barren,  and  material ;  and  he  asked  himself  if 
the  world  had  reached  its  highest  triumphs  under  such  a 
tutelage  ? 

What  were  the  proudest  achievements  of  the  mighty 
men  who  had  bowed  at  the  shrine  of  the  imperial  city, 
compared  with  the  career  of  a  single  apostle  of  Christian 
ity,  Saint  Paul,  whose  very  presence  there  had  thrown  a 
noonday  splendor  over  the  whole  empire  ? 

Christianity  rose  before  him  in  the  sublimest  propor 
tions.  He  surveyed  its  progress  ;  he  saw  its  trophies  gath 
ered  out  of  every  nation  which  it  had  visited — splendid, 
glorious,  and  not  stained  with  blood.  He  saw  its  silken 
banners  everywhere  spread  in  all  climes  to  cheer  and  to 
bless,  uttering  its  invitations  to  the  nations  to  cease  from 
war,  and  seeking  to  gather  the  whole  race  of  men  into  one 
brotherhood.  He  retraced  his  steps.  He  saw  the  dome  of 
Saint  Peter's,  and  upon  the  cross  the  pure  light  lay.  It 
was  the  symbol  of  a  faith  that  upheld  the  very  badge  of 
its  humiliation  above  the  proudest  monuments  of  worldly 
power  and  glory :  the  only  symbol  which  it  emblazoned 
on  its  conquering  banners.  The  clear  heavens  were  spread 
out  upon  him.  There  were  the  stars  that  had  looked  down 
upon  all  the  eventful  history  of  the  imperial  city  which 
lay  at  his  feet,  brilliant  chroniclers  of  the  steady  progress 
of  that  faith  which,  without  arms,  had  extended  its  domin 
ion  over  the  proudest  seats  of  empire  that  the  world  ac 
knowledged.  The  by-gone  centuries  swept  into  view ;  and 
there,  with  the  past  and  the  present  meeting  upon  the 
site  of  the  world's  capital,  shattered  monuments  of  hu- 


528  DE   VANE. 

man  glory  and  towering  Christian  temple,  he  exclaimed  : 
"  CHRISTIANITY  is  TKUE  !" 

From  that  hour,  with  the  directness  and  frankness  of  his 
nature,  he  submitted  himself  to  the  teachings  of  the  Christ 
ian  system ;  and  it  might  be  said  of  him  as  of  Saul  of  Tar 
sus,  after  he  had  seen  the  overpowering  display  of  supernal 
glory  which  burst  upon  his  vision  on  the  road  to  Damas 
cus  :  "  Behold  he  prayeth  !" 

All  this  progress  in  the  spiritual  development  of  De 
Yane  had  been  observed  both  by  Waring  and  Esther,  who, 
as  they  read  his  letters  from  time  to  time,  expressing  his 
convictions,  emotions,  and  views,  comprehended  his  state ; 
and  when  they  saw  at  last  that  the  morning-star  for  which 
they  had  so  long  watched,  had  risen  upon  the  soul  of  the 
wanderer,  they  rejoiced  with  exceeding  great  joy. 

The  spring  came ;  and  nature  was  once  more  robed  in 
beauty.  The  woods  were"  vocal  with  the  songs  of  birds ; 
the  China-trees,  with  which  the  town  abounded,  were 
covered  with  their  delicate  purple  blooms ;  the  gardens 
were  brilliant. 

Miss  Godolphin  and  Esther  saw  each  other  daily,  and 
Waring  was  often  with  them.  They  were  in  sympathy 
with  each  other,  and  De  Vane's  letters  to  Waring  were 
seen  by  the  others,  and  were,  of  course,  eagerly  read  by 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Springfield^  For  some  weeks  none  had  been 
received  from  him.  The  advancing  season  was  deepening 
into  summer,  and  the  time  for  De  Vane's  return-voyage 
was  not  distant. 

One  evening  Waring  hurried  to  Mr.  Springfield's.  He 
was  just  in  time  for  tea.  Miss  Godolphin  was  there ;  and 
entering  the  library  almost  without  knocking,  he  found 
the  party  rising  to  pass  into  the  room  where  the  table  was 
spread.  All  greeted  him  warmly,  and  Mrs.  Springfield 
Baid : 

"  Ah  !  Professor,  you  are  very  welcome,  and  I  am  glad 


DE   VANE.  529 

to  have  you  with  us,  to  partake  of  the  finest  strawberries 
we  have  had  this  season." 

"  Strawberries  !"  said  Waring,  "  so  late  as  this  ?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  Mrs.  Springfield,  "  and  the  very  finest 
we  have  had.  They  are  just  now  in  perfection." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Waring.  "I  will  most  gladly  join 
you."  And  giving  his  arm  to  Mrs.  Springfield,  they  all 
entered  the  supper-room. 

Mr.  Springfield  said :  "  Well,  Professor  Waring,  what  of 
Mr.  De  Yane  ?  Any  late  tidings  of  him  ?" 

Waring  smiled  and  said :  "  How  is  it  that  you  anticipate 
me?" 

All  looked  eagerly  at  him  ;  and  taking  a  letter  from  his 
pocket,  he  handed  it  to  Esther.  Perfect  as  her  self-control 
usually  was,  she  rose  to  receive  it,  and,  unable  to  conceal 
her  emotion,  she  hurried  from  the  room. 

"  It  was  my  intention  to  withhold  Miss  Wordsworth's 
letter,"  said  Waring,  "until  after  the  strawberries  were 
discussed ;  but  there  was  no  resisting  such  an  appeal  as  her 
face  made  to  me,  after  your  question." 

"  It  was  a  little  unlucky,"  said  Mr.  Springfield ;  "  but  I 
trust  that  you  have  good  accounts  from  him." 

"Very  good,"  said  Waring.  "He  writes  me  at  some 
length,  and  gives  a  very  interesting  account  of  a  discovery 
which  he  has  just  made.  Miss  Godolphin,  the  mystery 
which  has  hitherto  hung  about  your  picture — the  Daughter 
of  Herodias — is  explained." 

"  Indeed  !"  she  exclaimed.     "  And  how  ?" 

"  Do  you  not  remember  that  De  Vane  has  more  than 
once  written  about  an  artist  for  whom  he  felt  a  great  lik 
ing,  from  his  first  visit  to  his  studio  ?"  said  Waring. 

"  Yes ;  a  painter,  a  native  of  this  country,  whom  he  de 
scribes  as  full  of  genius  and  all  fine  qualities.  But  I  do 
not  know  that  he  has  ever  given  his  name,"  said  Miss  Go- 
dolphin. 

23 


530  DE   VANE. 

"  He  has  never  done  so  till  now,"  said  Waring.  "  He  has 
until  recently  resided  at  Naples,  but  he  is  now  in  Rome." 

"  Can  it  be  Mr.  Lawrence,"  exclaimed  Miss  Godolphin, 
"the  artist  who  painted  the  picture  which  Esther  so 
strongly  resembles  ?" 

"  The  same,"  said  Waring.  "  He  has  explained  every 
thing  to  De  Vane.  Do  you  remember,  Mrs.  Springfield, 
to  have  known  some  years  since,  a  painter  of  that  name  ?" 

"  Perfectly  well,"  she  replied.  "  But  I  have  heard  noth 
ing  of  him  for  years.  I  knew  that  he  had  gone  abroad, 
but  for  a  long,  long  while,  I  have  lost  all  trace  of  him." 

"I  do  not  remember  to  have  known  him,"  said  Mr. 
Springfield. 

"I  do  not  know  that  you  ever  met  him,"  said  Mrs. 
Springfield.  "I  saw  him  when  I  was  very  young." 

"  And  how  is  the  mystery  explained  ?"  asked  Miss  Go- 
dolphin. 

"It  seems,"  said  Waring,  "that  De  Vane  became  inti 
mate  with  the  artist  whom  he  so  much  admired,  and  visited 
his  studio  habitually.  Calling  one  morning,  he  found  Mr. 
Lawrence  not  at  home ;  but  still,  without  hesitation,  he 
entered  the  rooms  of  the  artist,  and  seated  himself  to  await 
his  coming.  The  room  where  Mr.  Lawrence  slept  opened 
into  his  studio,  and  as  De  Vane  sat  awaiting  him,  he  saw 
what  he  had  never  observed  before.  The  door  of  the 
artist's  bed-chamber  was  open;  it  had  hitherto  been  kept 
as  scrupulously  concealed  from  the  view  of  visitors  as  the 
interior  of  a  Turkish  mosque  from  Christians.  In  full  view 
of  where  De  Vane  was  seated,  stood  the  light,  graceful  bed 
of  the  artist,  and  over  it  hung,  in  an  elaborate  oval  frame, 
a  painting  in  the  highest  style  of  art.  It  was  the  bust  of 
a  girl  of  some  seventeen  years,  the  face  slightly  averted 
but  the  large,  blue  eyes  visible,  and  the  profuse  golden 
hair  falling  about  the  perfect  neck.  It  was  a  portrait  so 


DE  VANE.  531 

perfect  in  its  resemblance  to  Miss  Wordsworth,  that  De 
Yane  started." 

"  A  portrait  of  Esther  ?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Springfield, 
with  astonishment. 

"  So  perfect,"  said  Waring,  "  that  De  Yane  sprang  from 
his  chair,  and  was  standing  transfixed  with  astonishment 
when  Mr.  Lawrence  entered.  Observing  De  Yane's  ex 
citement,  he  was  himself  at  a  loss  to  account  for  it ;  and 
an  explanation  followed,  which  is  given  at  length  in  the 
.letter  which  I  received  this  evening.  It  seems  that  early 
in  life  Mr.  La-wrence  had  known  Miss  Wordsworth's 
mother,  and  had  been  employed  to  paint  her  portrait." 

"  It  hangs  now  in  Esther's  room,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield, 
"and  answers  perfectly  *  the  description  which  Mr.  De 
Yane  gives  of  the  picture  in  Mr.  Lawrence's  possession." 

"The  young  painter  loved  the  beautiful  being  whose 
picture  he  had  been  engaged  to  paint,  and  meeting  no  en 
couragement,  did  not  venture  to  breathe  a  passion  which 
he  felt  was  hopeless.  He  copied  the  picture  which  he  had 
painted,  and  it  had,  from  that  hour,  been  the  sole  solace  of 
his  lonely  hours.  He  has  never  married;  the  one  fatal, 
hopeless  passion  of  his  youth  has  continued  to  flame  up  in 
a  heart  which  would  be  desolate  but  for  its  fires.  He  has 
never  reproduced  the  form  and  features  so  precious  to  him 
but  in  one  instance ;  wishing  to  paint  a  picture  of  the  very 
highest  style  of  art,  he  represented  the  daughter  of  Hero- 
dias,  with  that  ineffaceable  image  enshrined  in  his  heart — 
the  picture,  Miss  Godolphin,  which  you  possess.  De  Yane 
then  explained  to  the  artist  his  own  interest  in  the  picture. 
You  may  imagine  how  it  deepened  the  friendship  which 
had  already  grown  into  strength  between  De  Yane  and  a 
man  whom  he  so  much  admired,  and  with  whom  he  now 
so  profoundly  sympathizes." 

"  It  is  very  wonderful !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Springfield.  "  I 
well  remember  young  Lawrence.  His  genius  and  his  ar- 


532  DE  VANE. 

dor  interested  us,  and  my  brother  contributed  every  thing 
within  his  power  to  his  advancement." 

"  That  accounts  for  his  wish,  that  the  picture  which  he 
so  much  prized  should  be  seen  here,"  said  Miss  Godolphin ; 
"  for  he  must  have  heard  of  Esther,  and  of  her  residing 
here." 

"  Yes.  So  De  Yane  states.  Mr.  Lawrence  has  never 
lost  sight  of  the  family  of  one  that  so  deeply  interested 
him,  though  he  has  had  no  direct  communication  with 
them,"  replied  Waring. 

"Does  he  not  intend  to  re-visit  this  country?"  asked  Mr. 
Springfield. 

"  He  has  resided  abroad  so  long,"  replied  Waring,  "that 
he  has  now  no  attachments  to  bind  him  here ;  and  his 
tastes  and  habits  would  unfit  him  for  society,  as  it  exists 
with  us." 

"  I  should  be  very  happy  to  meet  him,"  said  Mr.  Spring 
field. 

"  He  is  one  of  the  most  agreeable  persons  I  have  ever 
met,"  said  Miss  Godolphin.  "  His  library  is  immense,  and 
his  collection  of  works  of  art  would  enrich  a  king.  His 
conversation  of  itself  would  attract  you ;  and  if  there  were 
neither  pictures,  nor  statues,  nor  books  in  his  house,  it 
would  be  still  filled  with  the  first  people  of  all  countries, 
who  travel  for  sight-seeing,  and  who  know  how  to  prize 
genius.  At  Naples  his  villa  was  the  most  attractive  place 
in  the  kingdom." 

"  De  Yane  writes  me,"  said  Waring,  "  that  it  is  the  in 
tention  of  Mr.  Lawrence  to  reside  permanently  in  Rome. 
He  is  arranging  a  residence  at  this  time.  He  is  a  man  of 
very  considerable  wealth.  His  pictures  have  brought  him 
a  great  deal  of  money.  Several  of  them  are  in  royal  gal 
leries.  Two  of  his  finest  are  in  the  palace  of  the  Duke 
D'Arenberg  at  Brussels,  and  the  King  of  Bavaria  has  just 


DE  VANE.  533 

engaged  him  to  paint  an  historical  piece,  which  will  re 
quire  two  years  for  its  completion." 

"  I  greatly  admired  the  pictures  which  I  saw  at  Mrs. 
Habershaiii's,"  said  Mr.  Springfield.  ''But  I  shall  study 
them  now  with  increased  interest." 

"  I  was  never  before  able  to  account  for  the  extraordi 
nary  resemblance  between  Esther  and  the  picture  of  the 
Daughter  of  Herod ias,"  said  Mr.  Springfield.  "  It  has 
often  perplexed  me.  She  is  the  very  image  of  her  mother, 
at  her  age.  I  have  never  seen  a  likeness  so  perfect,  and 
the  fact  that  Mr.  Lawrence  has  in  his  possession  a  portrait 
of  the  mother,  enabled  him  to  paint  from  it  a  picture  which 
could  not  resemble  Esther  more  perfectly,  if  she  had  stood 
before  the  artist  in  person." 

They  rose  from  the  table,  and  passed  into  the  library. 

Esther  was  seated,  still  reading  the  letter  which  Waring 
had  handed  her.  It  was  very  long ;  and  after  reading  it, 
page  after  page,  she  had  again  read  it,  and  was  dwelling 
upon  some  of  its  passages  when  she  was  interrupted  by 
the  party  coming  from  the  supper-room  into  the  library. 

It  gave  even  a  fuller  explanation  of  the  picture  of  her 
mother — its  possession  by  the  artist,  and  his  enduring 
loyalty  to  his  first  love — than  that  contained  in  the  letter 
to  Waring  ;  and  it  described  vividly  De  Vane's  own  emo 
tions  upon  seeing  it.  It  was  to  her  a  precious  letter,  full 
of  passionate  tenderness  and  glowing  hope.  As  the  party 
entered  the  room,  Esther  raised  her  radiant  face,  and  look 
ing  at  Waring,  she  exclaimed  : 

"  Is  it  not  wonderful  ?" 

"  We  have  all  been  saying  so,"  he  replied ;  "  for,  in  your 
absence,  I  gave  to  our  friends  an  account  of  the  discovery 
made  by  De  Vane,  which  he  has,  I  suppose,  communicated 
to  you." 

"  And  did  you  know  Mr.  Lawrence,  aunt  ?"  asked  Es 
ther. 


534  DE  VANE. 

"  Yes  ;  and  I  well  remember  him.  Full  of  ardor  and 
genius,  your  father,  both  before  and  after  his  marriage, 
gave  to  the  young  artist  such  assistance  as  enabled  him  to 
pursue  his  career." 

Mrs.  Springfield  then  gave  a  full  account  of  the  early 
life  of  Mr.  Lawrence,  which  interested  all,  and  made  them 
feel  as  if  a  new  friend  had  been  added  to  their  circle. 

De  Vane  had  written  that  he  was  about  to  make  a  brief 
visit  to  Greece,  in  company  with  Mr.  Lawrence,  and  that, 
upon  their  return  to  Home,  he  should  pass  rapidly  through 
Germany  and  Belgium  into  England,  to  take  passage  in 
an  American  vessel  at  Liverpool  for  New- York. 

Weeks  fled  by,  but  no  letters  were  received  from  De 
Yane.  A  vague  sense  of  uneasiness  began  to  steal  over 
the  minds  of  his  friends.  It  took  no  defined  shape ;  but 
the  heart  grew  sick  under  the  very  uncertainty  which 
hung,  about  his  fate.  To  those  who  love,  absence  is  an 
ordeal  of  suffering ;  but  if  we  are  utterly  ignorant  of  the 
very  place  where  the  loved  and  absent  are,  of  all  the  perils 
to  which  they  are  exposed,  when  wide  seas  roll  their 
fathomless  waters  between  us,  the  uncertainty  which 
overspreads  every  thing  connected  with  them,  chills  hope 
with  its  mists,  if  it  can  not  cool  the  ardor  of  a  sentiment 
too  strong  to  be  quenched  by  all  the  waves  and  the  billows 
which  roll  over  us. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

"WHAT  is  this  old  history,  but  a  lesson  given, 
How  true  love  still  conquers  by  the  deep  strength  of  truth- 
How  all  the  impulses  whose  native  home  is  heaven, 
Sanctify  the  visions  of  hope,  and  faith,  and  youth  ? 
'Tis  for  such  they  waken !" 

The  Aioakening  of  Endymion. 

SUMMER  came  with  its  splendors,  but  no  tidings  had  yet 
been  received  from  De  Vane.  Waring  and  Miss  Godolphin 
were  more  than  ever  with  Esther,  and  cheered  her  with 
their  hopeful  view  of  the  causes  which  had  hindered  the 
arrival  of  letters.  The  beautiful  lines  of  her  own  character 
were  now  distinctly  visible.  Never  for  a  moment  did 
doubt  cloud  the  heaven  of  her  soul.  She  was  unhappy, 
but  it  was  from  apprehension  that  the  treacherous  sea 
might  have  engulfed  the  object  of  her  solicitude.  Her 
own  loyalty  was  unswerving ;  and  she  did  not  suffer  the 
faintest  shadow  of  distrust  of  his  to  steal  upon  her  heart. 
Prayer  was. her  resource  when  alone;  and  often  she  out- 
watched  the  stars.  Like  Tennyson's  Mariana,  she  would 
throw  open  the  lattice-blind,  and  lean  upon  the  balcony : 

"  There  all  in  spaces  rosy-bright, 

Large  Hesper  glittered  on  her  tears, 
And  deepening  through  the  silent  spheres, 
Heaven  over  heaven  rose  the  night." 

But  hope  shed  its  lustre  over  her  troubled  spirit,  and  she 
would  retire  comforted  by  her  trust  in  Him  whose  sleepless 

(535) 


536  DP]  VANE. 

X 

care  is  over  all  his  works,  and  whose  power  is  as  great  in 
the  wide  sea  as  upon  the  high  places  of  the  earth. 

She  was  at  Leasowes,  engaged  in  some  of  the  little  tasks 
which  called  her  there  at  times  on  Saturday.  Three  or 
four  of  the  larger  girls  were  seated  near  her  ;  one  of  them, 
Mary  Sinclair,  who  was  busy  with  a  piece  of  embroidery. 
Esther  sat  with  her  face  drooping  over  a  sketch  which  she 
was  making,  as  a  guide  for  one  of  the  little  girls,  who 
had  exhibited  both  taste  and  genius  in  drawing. 

"  There  is  Mr.  Waring  coming,  Miss  Esther,"  said  Mary 
Sinclair.  Esther  started,  sprang  to  her  feet,  and  ran  to 
the  door,  borne  by  an  impulse  which  she  could  not  control. 
Waring  was  rapidly  approaching  the  house.  His  face  was 
resplendent ;  his  great  soul  beamed  through  his  eyes,  and 
he  exclamed:  "All's  well !" 

Esther  could  not  restrain  herself.  She  sank  upon  a  seat, 
and  passionate  tears  rained  from  her  eyes.  It  was  a  sum 
mer  shower  ;  for,  presently  recovering  her  self-possession, 
she  looked  up  to  Waring,  as  he  stood,  in  mute  respect 
awaiting  the  subsiding  of  her  emotion,  and  a  smiie  like 
sunlight  illumined  her  features. 

"  O  Mr.  Waring  !"  she  exclaimed,  "  you  must  pardon 
my  weakness." 

"  You  ladies,"  said  Waring,  smiling  brightly,  "  are  ex 
traordinary  beings.  If  one  brings  you  a  piece  of  good 
news,  you  are  sure  to  greet  him  with  tears.  But  I  ought 
not  to  reproach  you ;  for,  upon  calling  at  the  office  this 
morning,  when  letters  'from  De  Vane  were  handed  me,  I 
found  the  lines  which  I  was  reading  wet  with  my  own 
tears  ;  but  they  were  tears  of  joy.  The  fellow  has  been 
wandering  through  Greece  with  Mr* Lawrence ;  and  like 
a  couple  of  enthusiasts,  they  were  six  weeks  longer  than 
they  had  intended,  exploring  out-of-the-way  places  and 
searching  ruins,  and  so  neglected  to  write.  De  Vane  now 
writes  from  Dresden,  where  Mr.  Lawrence  has  accom- 


DE   VANE.  537 

panied  him ;  for  that  gentleman  seems  to  have  taken  a 
prodigious  fancy  to  our  friend,  just  as  if  he  deserved  it. 
They  are  now  exploring  the  galleries  of  art ;  and  De  Vane 
is  to  be  in  Paris  by  the  latter  part  of  this  month.  He  has 
decided  to  sail  from  Havre,  and  he  will  not  re-visit  Eng 
land ;  so  that,  if  prosperous,  he  may  reach  New- York  "by 
the  middle  of  September. 

He  handed  Esther  a  package  of  letters.  She  looked  her 
thanks. 

"  Will  you  be  at  home  this  evening  ?"  asked  Waring. 

"  Yes  ;  and  we  shall  be  happy  to  see  you,"  she  replied. 
"  Will  you  come  ?" 

"  With  the  greatest  pleasure,"  he  replied. 

"  And  would  you  offer  any  objection,"  said  Esther  arch 
ly,  "  if  I  should  propose  to  invite  Miss  Godolphin  to  join 
us,  and  hear  the  tidings  from  our  absent  friend  ?" 

"  Oh  !  none  whatever,"  said  Waring,  laughing,  and  act 
ually  blushing.  "  And  now  I  leave  you  to  your  letters. 
Good-morning." 

"Au  revoir  /"  said  Esther,  not  entering  the  house,  but 
snatching  her  parasol  and  hastening  to  the  fountain. 
There  was  no  spot  on  earth  where  she  could  read  De 
Yane's  letters  with  so  much  pleasure  ;  and  as  she  opened 
the  package  which  she  had  just  received,  she  felt  that  she 
possessed  a  treasure  of  priceless  value.  There  were  sev 
eral  letters,  and  they  were  very  long.  She  read  and  re 
read  them  ;  and  the  tears  of  joy  which  fell  upon  her  soul- 
lit  face,  were  as  bright  as  the  waters  of  the  little  fountain 
which  sparkled  in  the  sunbeams,  glancing  upon  them 
through  the  surrounding  shrubbery. 

In  the  evening,  when  Waring  arrived  at  Mr.  Spring 
field's,  he  found  Miss  Godolphin  already  there.  She  had 
learned  from  Esther  the  good  tidings  respecting  De  Yane, 
and  a  glow  of  happiness  overspread  the  party  assembled 
in  the  library. 
23* 


538  DE  VANE. 

"  So  Mr.  De  Vane  is  really  on  his  way  to  this  coun 
try,  it  may  fairly  be  concluded,  from  what  he  reports  of 
himself,"  said  Mr.  Springfield.  "  I  suppose  he  may  have 
sailed  by  this  time." 

"  Yes,"  said  Waring,  "  he  may  be  on  the  ocean  at  this 
moment,  and  I  shall  soon  look  for  his  arrival  in  Kew- 
York." 

"  Of  course  he  will  make  some  stay  in  Virginia,"  said 
Mr.  Springfield. 

"  Oh  !  yes,"  said  Waring ;  "  and  yet  I  shall  look  for 
him  here  early  in  October.  I  called  at  his  place  to-day,  to 
give  some  instructions  to  his  servant,  who  was  almost 
frantic  with  joy  upon  hearing  that  his  master  was  so 
soon  to  be  here." 

"  He  has  inquired  of  me,  I  think,  at  least  three  times  a 
week  for  the  last  three  months,"  said  Mr.  Springfield,  "  to 
know  if  I  had  heard  any  thing  from  Mr.  De  Vane ;  and 
the  fellow  seemed  to  think  that  I  ought  to  set  out  to  look 
for  him,  if  he  did  not  return  pretty  soon." 

"  He  is  a  faithful  fellow,"  said  Waring,  "  and  has  his 
master's  horses  in  perfect  condition." 

"  My  friend  Hobbs  is  about  as  impatient  as  Caesar. 
He  has  actually  called  on  me  every  Sunday  morning  for  a 
month  past,  to  know  if  I  have  had  any  accounts  from  his 
friend  De  Vane  ;  and  the  last  time  he  called,  he  began  to 
swear  that  he  thought  some  of  the  people  across  the  water 
had  shown  him  foul  play,  and  was  especially  hard  on  the 
British." 

"  Oh  !"  said  Miss  Godolphin,  laughing,  "  that  must  be 
a  prejudice  of  his,  derived  from  reading  the  Life  of  Marion 
lately,  which  you  gave  me  some  account  of,  Mr.  Waring." 

"  Quite  likely,"  said  Waring ;  "  but  I  shall  be  able  to 
relieve  his  mind  in  the  morning,  for  he  will  certainly  call." 

At  this  moment  Mr.  Clarendon  entered  the  room,  and 
all  rose  to  welcome  him. 


DE  VANE.  539 

"  Mrs.  Springfield,"  he  said,  "  these  young  people  do  not 
treat  me  well,  and  I  have  come  to  you  to  complain  of 
them." 

"  Is  it  possible  ?"  she  replied.  "  We  must  inquire  into 
that.  How  have  they  offended  ?" 

"  Why,  madam,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  taking  a  hand  of 
each  of  the  young  ladies,  "  they  do  not  permit  me  to  share 
their  confidence.  They  receive  letters  from  persons  at 
home  and  abroad,  and  never  inform  me  of  their  contents  ; 
and  I  appeal  to  you  to  say  if  this  conduct  is  not  wholly 
inconsistent  with  their  professions  of  regard  for  me." 

"  I  do  think,"  replied  Mrs.  Springfield,  "  that  they  de 
serve  some  mark  of  your  displeasure,  if  they  have  com 
mitted  so  grave  an  offense ;  but  I  can  scarcely  believe 
that  it  was  designed,  for  they  both  speak  of  you  in  terms 
so  glowing,  that  I  am  sure  they  are  delighted  to  have  the 
opportunity  of  speaking  to  you  about  any  thing  that  con 
cerns  them." 

"  We  shall  see  about  that,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon.  "  Here 
is  that  fellow  De  Vane,  for  whom  I  had  some  regard, 
takes  himself  off — at  the  instance,  I  suspect,  of  one  or  the 
other  of  these  ladies  ;  he  wanders  in  Europe,  does  not 
give  me  a  single  line  for  months  together,  writes  to  these 
ladies,  one  or  both,  and  they  say  not  one  word  to  me  on 
the  subject.  Now  I  insist,  that  after  taking  that  young 
gentleman  from  under  my  control,  and  then  banishing 
him  from  the  country,  they  should  at  least  keep  me  in 
formed  of  his  movements,  that  I  might  do  something  for 
his  relief,  if  he  should  require  it." 

Mr.  Clarendon  looked  very  much  like  an  injured  person, 
and  still  stood  retaining  the  hands  of  Miss  Godolphin  and 
of  Esther. 

"  I  assure  you,  Mr.  Clarendon,"  said  Miss  Godolphin, 
*  that  we  are  delighted  to  see  you.  We  were  burning 


510  DE   VANE.  * 

with  impatience  to  talk  with  you  about  Mr.  De  Vane,  and 
your  coming  is  most  fortunate." 

"  We  are  indeed  delighted  to  see  you,"  said  Esther. 
"  Your  coming  has  completed  our  happiness." 

"  Then,  Mrs.  Springfield,"  said  he,  "  I  must  pardon  the 
seeming  slight,  and  restore  them  to  favor."  And  kissing 
the  hand  of  each,  he  released  them. 

"  Well,  Professor  Waring,"  he  continued,  "  what  is  this 
about  De  Vane  ?  Is  he  really  intending  to  come  back  to 
iis  ?  I  met  his  servant  riding  one  of  his  horses  to-cjay,  and 
he  told  me  that  you  had  letters  from  his  master ;  so  call 
ing  at  Mrs.  Bowen's  to  inquire  after  our  friend,  I  was  in 
formed  that  I  should  find  you  here,  and  pursued  you." 

"  I  am  very  glad  that  you  did  so,"  replied  Waring.  "  We 
have  the  best  accounts  from  De  Vane.  He  was  at  Dres 
den,  en  route  for  Paris ;  and  expected  to  sail  from  Havre, 
with  as  little  delay  as  possible." 

"  Indeed  !"  said  Mr.  Clarendon.  "  Then  we  shall  have 
him  with  us  presently.  What  has  detained  him  ?" 

"A  visit  to  Greece  with  an  American  artist  of  celebrity, 
Mr.  Lawrence,  who  has  for  some  years  resided  at  Naples, 
but  is  now  establishing  himself  in  Rome." 

"  Lawrence  !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Clarendon.  "  I  very  well 
remember  him.  I  met  him  in  Paris,  and  was  proud  of 
him  as  an  artist  from  my  own  country.  Le  Grande  and  I 
both  predicted  his  great  eminence." 

"  The  pictures  which  you  have  observed  at  my  aunt's 
are  by  him,  Mr.  Clarendon,"  said  Miss  Godolphin. 

"  You  amaze  me,"  said  he.  "  I  remember  that  you  said 
they  were  by  an  American  artist,  but  it  did  not  occur  to 
me  to  ask  his  name.  They  are  pictures  of  extraordinary 
merit.  Do  you  not  think  them  such,  Mr.  Springfield  ?" 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you,"  replied  Mr.  Springfield.  "  I 
have  admired  them  greatly.  Do  you  know  that  one  of 
his  early  pieces  is  in  this  house  ?" 


DE  VANE.  541 

"  In  this  house  ?  How  does  that  happen  ?"  asked  Mr. 
Clarendon.  "  Has  De  Yane  sent  it  over  ?" 

"  Oh  !  no,"  replied  Mr.  Springfield.  "  It  was  painted  long 
before  Mr.  De  Yane  knew  the  artist.  Esther,  may  we 
have  the  picture  brought  down,  that  Mr.  Clarendon  may 
see  it  ?" 

She  instantly  rose,  and,  quitting  the  room,  soon  after 
returned,  a  servant  bearing  the  picture.  It  was  a  portrait 
in  the  highest  style  of  art ;  and  the  resemblance  to  Esther 
was  so  perfect  that  Mr.  Clarendon  exclaimed  :  "  What 
mystery  is  this  ?  I  do  not  comprehend  it." 

Esther  smiled,  and  replied :  "  That,  Mr.  Clarendon,  is  a 
portrait  of  my  mother,  painted  by  Mr.  Lawrence,  before 
he  left  this  country." 

"  My  dear  young  friend,"  he  replied,  "  it  is  absolutely 
wonderful.  I  could  fancy  that  it  was  yourself,  look 
ing  out  of  that  oval  frame  as  a  lady  looks  from  her  lat 
tice.  There  is  the  great  charm  of  Lawrence's  pictures. 
Their  naturalness  is  perfect,  and  the  coloring  has  all  the 
transparency  that  distinguishes  the  works  of  the  old  mas 
ters." 

"The  picture,  when  painted,  was  thought  to  be  per 
fect,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield.  "  Esther's  resemblance  to  her 
mother  is  really  wonderful." 

"  I  thank  you,  Miss  Wordsworth,  with  all  my  heart,  for 
permitting  me  to  see  this.  I  can  imagine  how  you  must 
prize  it,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon. 

The  picture  was  restored  to  Esther's  chamber. 

"I  shall  be  delighted  to  see  De  Yane,"  said  Mr.  Claren 
don.  "  He  has  not  written  to  me  of  late,  and  I  was  not 
in  any  way  informed  as  to  his  recent  plans  of  travel." 

"In  his  letter  to  me,  received  to-day,"  said  Waring,  "  he 
wishes  me  to  assure  you  of  his  warmest  regards,  and 
says  that  his  friend,  Mr.  Lawrence,  the  artist,  has  asked 


542  DE  VANE. 

after  you  with  the  greatest  interest,  recalling  vividly  your 
visits  to  his  studio." 

"  Indeed  !"  said  Mr.  Clarendon.  "  I  wonder  that  he 
has  not  forgotten  me  long  since." 

"  That  would  argue  himself  unknown,"  said  Miss  Go- 
dolphin. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon  ;  "  that  is  so  nattering 
to  my  amour  propre  that  I  must  pardon  your  late  ne 
glect." 

It  was  late  before  Mr.  Clarendon  took  leave.  Miss  Go- 
dolphin  took  her  departure  soon  after,  and  Waring  accom 
panied  her. 

It  was  distinctly  understood  that  they  were  to  be  mar 
ried  at  some  time,  but  no  day  had  been  agreed  on.  "With 
perfect  independence  she  conducted  herself,  and  took  no 
pains  to  conceal  her  engagement  to  Waring.  Such  was 
her  respect  for  him,  that  she  disdained  the  affectation  of 
indifference ;  and  without  avowing  to  others  her  regard 
for  him,  she  left  it  to  be  inferred  from  her  deportment. 

Mrs.  Habersham  had  long  known  and  appreciated  War 
ing,  and  she  did  not  conceal  her  gratification  at  his  pre 
ference  for  her  niece.  She  said  to  Mrs.  Springfield  :  "  Some 
persons  might  suppose  that  I  would  regard  Professor 
Waring  an  unequal  match  for  my  niece.  He  has  no  for 
tune,  and  he  avows  his  purpose  to  adhere  to  the  Method 
ist  ministry;  but  I  really  rejoice  at  the  inequality  of  their 
circumstances,  for  it  affords  us  the  opportunity  of  show 
ing  our  appreciation  of  a  true  man.  My  niece  has  an  am 
ple  fortune,  quite  sufficient  for  them  both ;  and  if  it  were 
not,  I  would  make  up  the  deficiency.  "  I  should  be  delight 
ed  to  enrich  such  a  man  as  Mr.  Waring." 

Waring  intended  to  await  the  arrival  of  De  Yane  before 
asking  Miss  Godolphin  to  appoint  a  day  for  their  marriage ; 
and  she  comprehended  and  approved  the  feeling  which 
restrained  him. 


DE  VANE.  543 

The  weeks  flew  swiftly.  The  approach  of  autumn  was 
visible.  Already  some  of  the  students  were  returning  to 
the  College,  making  their  arrangements  for  the  approach 
ing  session  ;  and  the  town  gave  signs  of  cheerful  activity. 
The  streets  were  filled  with  young,  bright,  happy  groups, 
meeting  again  after  a  separation  of  months ;  and  the  place 
wore  that  air  of  animation  which  so  preeminently  distin 
guished  it — the  animation  not  of  trade,  but  of  society,  in 
its  activity  and  refinement,  exhibiting  itself  in  the  many 
forms  of  life. 

Letters  came  from  De  Vane.  He  had  reached  ISTew- 
York,  and  it  was  his  purpose  to  pass  some  days  there. 
Then  he  was  to  visit  Virginia,  and  he  proposed  to  reach 
"  home,"  as  he  wrote  to  Waring,  by  the  middle  of  Octo 
ber.  His' letter  to  Esther  breathed  unchanging  love.  He 
was  eager  to  return  to  her,  that  he  might  assure  her  of 
his  loyalty,  and  claim  her  with  the  sanction  even  of  his 
father — a  sanction  which  he  was  confident  would  not  be 
reluctantly  given,  now  that  he  had  borne  the  ordeal  of 
TIME  and  ABSEXCE. 

His  love  had  conquered  by  the  deep  strength  of  truth. 
Even  when  broad  seas  had  roared  between  them ;  when 
he  trod  the  streets  of  gay  cities,  and  moved  in  the  bril 
liant  circles  of  the  capitals  of  Europe  ;  or  when  dwelling 
in  the  midst  of  the  soul-awakening  scenes  of  those  climes 
where  glory  still  lingers  at  its  ancient  shrines,  never 
had  his  love  known  languor  nor  decline  ;  but,  glowing, 
strong,  and  full  of  hope,  it  reigned  supreme.  • 

The  visions  of  hope,  and  faith,  and  youth  were  now  to 
be  realized. 

The  exile  was  ended.    LOVE  and  TRUTH  had  triumphed. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

"Ass  me  no  more:  thy  fate  and  mine  are  sealed." 

TENNYSON. 

A  MILD  October  evening  had  succeeded  a  brilliant  day. 
The  lingering  rays  of  the  sun  fell  upon  Leasowes,  and 
touched  its  foliage  with  golden  tints.  Esther,  after  a  day 
of  unusual  exertion — for  some  two  or  three  little  girls  had 
just  been  admitted  for  the  first  time  into  her  establish 
ment — sat  at  the  fountain,  her  favorite  resort  for  repose 
and  meditation.  The  place  had  grown  into  perfect  beau 
ty.  The  rarest  flowers  bloomed  around  it,  and  the  roses, 
yet  as  fresh  as  if  spring  still  breathed  upon  them,  bent 
over  the  clear  water,  and  mingled  their  perfume  with  the 
spray  which  fell  in  the  marble  basin.  Esther  was  dream 
ing.  She  recalled  the  events  of  the  two  past  years.  On 
such  an  evening  as  this  she  had  met  De  Yane  for  the  first 
time.  Since  then,  how  had  he  influenced  her  very  being  ! 
How  blended  was  his  image  with  every  vision  of  the  future ! 
She  might  exclaim,  in  the  language  of  Tennyson's  lines  : 

"  I  strove  against  the  stream,  and  all  in  vain ; 
Let  the  great  river  take  me  to  the  main." 

She  was  alone.  The  thick  shrubbery  shut  out  the  view  of 
the  house  and  the  grounds,  and  yet  the  solitude  was  radiant 
with  the  light  of  love  and  hope. 

She  was  startled  by  the  sound  of  footsteps  very  near 
her,  and  turning,  she  saw  De  Vane.  Instantly  she  started 

(544) 


DE  VANE.  5i5 

to  her  feet,  and  with  an  impulse  too  strong  to  be  resisted, 
she  threw  herself  into  De  Vane's  arms.  He  pressed  her  to 
his  heart,  and  for  the  first  time  imprinted  upon  her  glow 
ing  lips  a  long,  lingering  kiss  of  love.  Her  eyes  rained 
tears,  and  yet  the  face  was  bright  with  unutterable  joy. 

"  And  are  you  mine  now,  Esther  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Oh  !  yes,"  she  exclaimed,  "  forever." 

Again  he  kissed  her  rapturously,  and  looking  down  into 
her  true,  fathomless  eyes,  he  said  : 

"  Yes,  my  own  Esther,  you  will  walk  like  an  angel  by 
my  side  through  all  the  future.  Do  you  remember  when 
I  first  spoke  my  love  to  you  here  ?  Then  you  were  too 
true  to  deceive  me.  You  would  not  consent  to  be  mine. 
"Now  every  lingering  obstacle  has  been  removed.  My 
father  is  ready  to  receive  you  as  a  daughter,  and  my  aunt 
is  eager  to  embrace  you.  We  have  triumphed,  my  Es 
ther,  and  we  shall  now  live  for  each  other." 

Her  soul  beamed  in  her  face.  Her  large,  deep  blue  eyes, 
her  golden  hair,  her  perfect  features,  made  her  beauty  daz 
zling  ;  and  as  De  Vane  looked  down  upon  her,  he  felt  that 
in  all  his  wanderings  he  had  not  beheld  such  matchless 
charms.  Neither  in  the  aristocratic  circles  of  Europe,  nor 
in  the  day-dreams  of  the  old  masters  still  glowing  in  the 
galleries  of  art,  had  he  found  any  form  that  could  rival 
hers. 

They  turned  their  steps  toward  the  house,  for  Esther  had 
said  that  she  must  call  for  a  moment,  to  give  some  parting 
instructions  to  Mrs.  Green.  De  Vane  had  called  on  entering 
the  grounds,  and  had  received  a  warm  welcome  from  Mrs. 
Green,  who,  in  answer  to  his  inquiries,  had  told  him  that 
she  believed  Esther  had  gone  to  walk  in  the  direction  of 
the  fountain.  He  therefore  walked  now  to  the  crate  to  await 

O 

her,  that  she  might  be  unembarrassed  in  making  her  ar 
rangements.  She  soon  joined  him,  and  they  proceeded  to 
Mr.  Springfield's.  De  Vane  had  already  called  there  to 


546  -  DE  VANE. 

ask  for  Esther,  but  none  of  the  family  were  at  home.  He 
now  entered  the  house  with  Esther,  who,  conducting  him 
to  the  library,  went  to  seek  her  aunt.  At  that  moment 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Springfield  drove  up,  having  just  returned 
from  an  evening's  drive,  and  entering  the  library,  they 
welcomed  De  Yane  as  they  would  have  received  a  long- 
absent  son. 

"  I  need  not  say  that  we  are  delighted  to  see  you,  Mr. 
De  Yane,"  said  Mr.  Springfield.  "  We  have  long  since 
given  you  a  place  in  our  hearts." 

"  I  am  very  grateful,"  said  De  Yane.  "  If  you  could 
only  know  how  I  have  longed  to  enter  this  house  once 
more,  you  would  comprehend  how  delightful  this  welcome 
is  to  me.  In  all  my  wanderings,  my  heart  has  been  here 
every  evening  ;  and  but  for  the  intervening  space,  I  should 
have  entered  this  circle  every  day  at  this  hour." 

"  You  should  have  been  most  welcome,"  said  Mrs. 
Springfield.  "  You  have  never  been  out  of  our  thoughts, 
and  we  are  delighted  to  see  you  here  once  more.  When 
did  you  arrive  ?" 

"  Some  two  hours  since,"  said  De  Yane.  "  I  found  War 
ing  upon  the  point  of  starting  for  the  College,  and  I  told 
him  that  I  should  pass  the  evening  here,  so  that  you  may 
expect  him  very  soon." 

A  moment  after,  he  entered  the  room,  and  exclaimed  : 
"  So  you  are  really  here.  Well,  I  am  delighted  to  see  you 
in  this  library  once  more." 

"  And  I  am  most  happy  to  be  here,"  said  De  Yane* 

"  I  hope  that  we  shall  now  resume  our  old  habits,"  said 
Mr.  Springfield ;  "  we  must  have  our  evenings  here  as 
formerly." 

"  Let  us  begin  at  once,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield.  "Esther, 
will  you  send  for  Miss  Godolphin  ?" 

"  With  the  greatest  pleasure,"  she  said.  "  Is  the  car 
riage  at  the  door  ?" 


DE  VAKE.  547 

It  was  driven  round  in  a  moment,  and  Mr.  Springfield 
rising,  said :  "  I  claim  the  privilege  of  escorting  Miss  Go- 
dolphin  this  evening.  She  is  too  great  a  favorite  of  mine 
to  be  confided  to  any  one  else  under  these  circumstances." 

He  entered  the  carriage  and  drove  off. 

"I  believe,"  said  Mrs.  Springfield,  laughing,  "that  no 
one  loves  Miss  Godolphin  better  than  Mr.  Springfield  does. 
If  she  were  a  daughter,  she  could  not  be  dearer  to  him." 

"  She  is  a  very  lovable  person  I  suspect.  Waring,  is 
she  not  ?"  asked  De  Yane. 

"  I  believe,  De  Vane,  that  you  always  admitted  her  to 
be  such,"  said  Waring,  "  and  I  do  not  wonder  that  Mr. 
Springfield  is  attached  to  her,  for  she  loves  him  dearly." 

"  Yes,"  said  Esther,  "  she  loves  and  venerates  him  be 
yond  expression.  Their  views  of  literature,  of  religion, 
and  of  society  harmonize  perfectly.  And  if  they  were 
members  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  I  think  that  Miss 
Godolphin  would  hardly  wait  for  his  death  to  have  him 
canonized." 

"  Mr.  Springfield's  esteem  for  Miss  Godolphin  is  such," 
said  Mrs.  Springfield,  "that  he  actually  converses  with 
her  upon  the  gravest  theological  questions,  and  he  says 
that  he  often  find  his  own  views  much  enlightened  by  her 
opinions." 

"  I  have  always  thought  her  a  superior  person,"  said  De 
Yane,  "  and  I  have  learned  to  appreciate  her  more  than 
ever  since  my  visit  to  her  relatives  in  England.  I  did  not 
know  before  what  she  had  endured.  Her  own  account  of 
it  softened  its  severity." 

"  And  what  has  become  of  Hubert  Godolphin  ?"  asked 
Esther. 

"  You  will  be  surprised  to  learn,"  said  De  Yane,  "  that 
he  is  to  marry  my  friend  Clara  Guilford." 

"  Is  it  possible  ?"  exclaimed  Esther.  "  I  am  really  de 
lighted." 


548  DE  VANE. 

"  Yes,"  said  De  Yane ;  "  they  will  suit  each  other  per 
fectly.  Clara's  ideas  of  life  will  now  be  fully  met — wealth, 
splendor,  and  a  rigid  aristocratic  circle,  where  her  beauty 
will  make  her  an -object  of  constant  admiration." 

Wheels  were  heard  approaching  the  house,  and  Esther, 
springing  up,  ran  to  receive  her  friend.  Miss  Godolphin 
entered  the  room,  and  De  Vane,  hastening  to  where  she 
stood,  took  her  hand  in  both  his,  and  said : 

"  I  am  indeed  happy,  Miss  Godolphin,  to  meet  you  once 
more." 

"  And  I  am  delighted  to  see  you  here,  Mr.  De  Vane," 
she  said.  "  You  must  never  wander  again." 

"  Never  until  we  can  all  go  together,"  said  De  Vane. 

"  I  consent  to  that,"  said  Waring. 

Esther  said  nothing,  but  smiled  brightly  as  De  Vane 
turned  his  glance  upon  her. 

The  evening  passed  with  charmed  hours.  A  supper, 
after  the  old  fashion,  at  Mr.  Springfield's,  was  enjoyed  by 
them  all,  De  Vane  declaring  that  he  had  found  nothing  to 
equal  it  in  all  his  travels.  He  had  grown  somewhat  more 
robust  since  his  departure.  He  was  now  in  high  health, 
and  as  he  sat  by  the  side  of  Esther,  his  dark  hair  and 
bronzed  face  afforded  a  striking  contrast  to  her  golden 
curls  and  perfect  complexion.  Waring  observed  them  with 
silent  pleasure,  in  his  generous  and  noble  nature  forgetting 
for  a  time  his  own  happiness. 

In  the  library,  De  Vane  asked  Esther  for  a  song ;  and 
seating  herself  at  her  harp — a  splendid  instrument,  which 
De  Vane  had  sent  to  her  from  Paris — she  sang  those  beau 
tiful  lines  of  Moore,  beginning : 

"  'Tis  believed  that  this  harp  which  I  wake  now  for  thee, 
Was  a  siren  of  old  who  sang  under  the  sea." 

Her  voice,  unrivaled  in  depth  and  tenderness,  was  full  of 
true  passion,  and  gave  to  the  closing  sentiment  an  eloquent 


DE  YANE  549 

power  which  was  felt  by  De  Vane  to  transcend  any  music 
he  had  ever  heard.  The  perfect  grace,  too,  of  the  tribute 
to  his  presence  which  the  selection  of  the  song  conveyed, 
was  deeply  felt  by  him ;  and  as  the  music  ceased,  he  said  to 
Esther,  in  tones  of  subdued  tenderness,  simply  :  "  I  thank 
you." 

She  rose  from  the  instrument.  Miss  Godolphin  was  in 
vited  to  sing,  but  she  declined.  She  felt  that  the  beautiful 
appropriateness  of  the  song  which  had  just  been  heard 
should  not  be  disturbed. 

It  was  late  when  the  little  circle  of  friends  was  broken 
by  Miss  Godolphin's  rising  to  take  leave.  Waring  accom 
panied  her,  and  soon  after  De  Vane  said  :  "  Good-night !" 

On  the  way  to  Mrs.  Habersham's,  Waring  pressed  Miss 
Godolphin  to  name  the  day  for  their  marriage,  urging  that 
as  De  Vane  had  now  returned,  there  could  no  longer  be 
any  reason  for  delay.  It  was  agreed  that  it  should  take 
place  on  Christmas  morning,  and  that  they  should  make  a 
brief  visit  to  Waring's  friends  in  Georgia,  at  that  time. 

As  but  two  months  intervened,  no  time  was  to  be  lost 
in  making  preparations  for  the  event,  and  Mrs.  Habersham's 
residence  was  the  scene  of  the  greatest  activity  for  several 
weeks  ;  Mrs.  Springfield  and  Esther  aiding  with  their 
labors  to  prepare  for  the  important  coming  event.  Every 
thing  was  arranged  with  perfect  taste. 

Winter  wore  its  brightest  robe.  Snow  had  fallen  the 
night  before,  and  the  sun  that  ushered  in  Christmas  morn 
ing  saw  his  splendors  reflected  back  by  every  object  upon 
which  they  fell.  The  bridal  party  consisted  of  Waring 
and  Miss  Godolphin,  attended  by  De  Vane  and  Esther,  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Springfield,  Mrs.  Habersham,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Clar 
endon,  and  a  few  other  friends.  The  marriage  took  place 
in  the  Methodist  church  at  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
and  the  service  was  performed  by  Mr.  Springfield. 

Immediately  after  the  ceremony,  Waring  and  his  bride 


550  DE   VANE. 

entered  a  handsome  traveling-carriage,  and  drove  to  Mrs. 
Habersham's,  where  the  whole  party  assembled,  and  sat 
down  to  a  Christmas  breakfast. 

When  it  was  ended,  Waring  and  his  bride,  taking  leave 
of  their  friends,  entered  their  carriage,  upon  which  their 
trunks  were  strapped,  and  drove  away. 

They  were  absent  but  a  fortnight,  and  upon  their  return 
Mrs.  Habersham  insisted  so  earnestly  that  they  should  re 
side  with  her,  that  they  consented  to  do  so.  Happy  months 
followed.  One  evening  in  every  week,  the  friends  now  so 
endeared  to  each  other,  met  at  Mrs.  Habersham's  ;  and 
every  Thursday  evening  found  them  assembled  in  Mrs. 
Springfield's  library. 

It  was  arranged  that  De  Yane  and  Esther  should  be 
married  on  the  first  day  of  the  following  May.  She  would 
not  consent  to  an  earlier  day.  She  was  very  young,  and 
she  for  some  time  insisted  that  the  marriage  should  be  de 
ferred  for  twelve  months  ;  but  she  yielded  to  De  Vane's 
earnest  wish.  Immediately  upon  his  arrival,  he  had  made 
arrangements  for  a  handsome  residence,  to  be  built  upon 
his  place,  and  it  afforded  him  great  gratification  to  observe 
its  progress.  He  consulted  Esther  from  time  to  time  as 
to  changes  in  his  plans,  and  her  taste  suggested  several 
improvements  which  he  at  once  adopted.  The  shrubbery 
was  already  beautiful ;  it  had  grown  under  Mr.  Swan's 
fostering  hand,  and  it  rivaled  the  public  garden  in  its  at 
tractions. 

Spring  came  at  length,  and  the  town  was  once  more 
robed  in  beauty.  Never-had  a  lovelier  season  opened  upon 
the  earth.  Leasowes  was  in  its  glory,  and  it  was  there 
that  the  marriage  was  to  take  place.  Esther  preferred  it, 
and  so  did  De  Yane.  It  was  endeared  to  them  both  by 
the  most  precious  associations.  The  first  of  May  was 
cloudless.  The  morning  was  balmy,  and  Leasowes  wel 
comed  it  with  foliage  and  flowers  of  the  rarest  beauty. 


DE   VANE.  551 

It  was  arranged  that  the  ceremony  should  be  performed 
at  six  o'clock  in  the  evening  ;  that  a  few  friends  only  should 
be  present ;  and  that  after  it  was  over,  the  party  should 
drive  to  L>e  Vane's  residence,  which  was  to  be  opened  for 
the  first  time  that  evening. 

Never  had  Esther  appeared  so  beautiful.  She  wore 
white,  always  becoming  to  her ;  and  the  flush  upon  her 
face  heightened  her  charms.  There  were  no  attendants, 
but  the  little  girls,  all  dressed  in  white,  stood  near  her, 
objects  of  her  generous  solicitude  and  witnesses  of  her 
happiness. 

Mr.  Springfield  performed  the  ceremony,  and  the  bless 
ing  which  he  uttered  sounded  in  the  ears  of  De  Vane  and 
Esther  as  if  an  angel  with  outspread  wings  had  hovered 
over  them,  to  seal  it  with  the  impress  of  Heaven.  Mr. 
Clarendon  came  forward,  his  face  lit  with  the  ardor  of  his 
great  soul,  and  taking  a  hand  of  each,  he  said  : 

"  De  Vane,  if  I  had  been  a  younger  man  and  an  unmar 
ried  one,  you  should  not  have  borne  away  this  prize  with 
out  breaking  a  lance  with  me  ;  but  I  feel  bound  to  say  that 
I  doubt  if,  in  all  the  world,  Miss  Wordsworth  could  have 
given  herself  to  a  young  fellow  who  deserved  her  better." 

Both  thanked  him  warmly.  There,  too,  was  Waring 
and  his  wife,  splendidly  beautiful,  both  full  of  joy.  Mrs. 
Bowen  and  Mrs.  Green,  and  Mr.  Swan  and  Mrs.  Gilder- 
sleeve,  and  some  other  friends,  partook  of  the  overflowing 
happiness  ;  while  Jacob  and  Caesar  were  as  jubilant  as  was 
consistent  with  their  importance  on  the  occasion. 

Refreshments  abounded ;  and  after  passing  an  hour  at 
Leasowes,  the  party  repaired  to  De  Vane's  residence,  where 
the  amplest  arrangements  were  made  for  the  reception  of 
a  large  company.  Mrs.  Springfield  received  the  guests, 
and  presided  throughout  the  evening.  The  entertainment 
was  very  brilliant,  and  all  who  saw  De  Vane,  with  his 
young  bride  by  his  side,  felt  that  two  beings  better  suited 


552  DE  VANE. 

to  tread  the  ways  of  life  together  had  never  plighted  their 
faith  since  that  happy  hour  when  our  first  parents  stood 
in  Eden,  hand  in  hand,  and  looked  up  through  the  stars  to 
praise  their  Maker. 

Music,  conversation,  and  refreshments  were  enjoyed  by 
all  who  were  present,  and  the  evening  was  long  recalled 
as  one  of  the  brightest  ever  known  in  a  place  remarkable 
for  the  elegance  and  grace  of  its  entertainments. 

The  guests  had  departed,  and  De  Yane  was  left  alone 
with  Esther.  She  was  now  his  own. 

She  stood  before  him  his  wife,  and  taking  her  in  his 
arms,  he  said  :  "  I  feel,  my  own  Esther,  that  we  shall  live 
for  each  other  always.  Our  blended  being  is  an  immortal 
union.  From  henceforth  '  thy  people  shall  be  my  people, 
and  thy  God  my  God.'  " 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

RENEWALS  ONLY— TEL.  NO.  642-3405 
This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  die  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


LD21A-60m-3,'70 
(N5382slO)476-A-32 


General  Library 

University  of  California 

Berkeley 


ix  w   V  oXJjL"  •   CA,  o  OvJ  •*•->'   v  i 

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